


sharp & glorious thorn

by beskars



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Clone Wars, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, all my homies hate sheev palpatine, clone defense squad, dumbasses to friends to lovers, me adding a droid to this fic just to annoy wolffe? more likely than you think
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:13:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 50,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25117447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beskars/pseuds/beskars
Summary: As part of a new branch of HoloNet News, you're tasked with covering the 104th. Unfortunately for you, Wolffe has no intention of making your job any easier, and you find yourself constantly at odds with the surly Commander.
Relationships: CC-3636 | Wolffe/Reader, CC-3636 | Wolffe/You
Comments: 93
Kudos: 166





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> for more Wolffe thirst and general shenanigans, come find me on tumblr under the same name!

**_sharp & glorious thorn_** **;** chapter one

  
  


“I just don’t understand why you couldn’t take one of the positions here,” your father said tersely, his arms folded across his chest as he watched you carefully arrange piles of neatly pressed uniforms into your pack.

“Doing what? Making puff pieces for the Chancellor?” you shot back irritably, your gaze snapping up to meet his. “I thought you’d be proud of me for doing something that actually makes a difference.” 

“Everything that COMPOR does makes a difference,” your father admonished you, his jaw tightening for a moment before he went on, softening slightly. “I  _ am  _ proud of you. But I’m worried about you, too. I’d feel much more comfortable with you working here on Coruscant.”

“Coruscant can be dangerous, too,” you replied flippantly, and his eyes narrowed. 

“Meaning?” he questioned, and you shook your head, brushing it off.

“Meaning no planet is truly safe while we’re at war,” you answered, and he sighed.

“That may be so, but you and I both know that you’re far less likely to see any combat on Coruscant than you are off in the Outer Rim or wherever they’re sending you,” he told you, a touch of impatience creeping into his voice. 

“I’m not going to be in combat,” you snapped, tightening the clasps on your pack with more force than was necessary. “They know why I’m there, no one’s going to hand me a blaster and tell me to get to work.”

“Do you think the Seps care whether you’re a soldier or a HoloNet crew member? Because they don’t,” your father said vehemently. “One General had his entire fleet destroyed not too long ago, and only three of his men survived. Three. Out of hundreds.” 

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to hope whatever General I’m assigned to is luckier than he was,” you muttered, trying to suppress the nervousness in your words.

“Ro--” he began, and you felt your annoyance abate slightly at his use of your nickname before you gathered yourself together and fixed him with a level gaze.

“You can’t talk me out of this,” you said plainly, and he uncrossed his arms, slumping in resignation. 

“I know,” he replied quietly, and he suddenly seemed very tired in a way that knotted your stomach guiltily.

Your father had always reminded you of a polished river stone, serenely unwavering as all things flowed around him. But now it seemed as though all those years amongst the current had finally worn away at him, creating a groove between his brows that deepened as he looked at you and you wondered how many strands of gray at his temples you were responsible for. Sighing, you crossed the room and patted him on the arm consolingly.

“This is your fault you know,” you told him, giving him a crooked grin to try to ease the tension between the two of you. “If you hadn’t raised me to be so damn stubborn, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“I thought I was raising you to be determined,” he muttered gruffly, and you laughed.

“That, too,” you agreed, and his mouth twitched up into a small smile. 

“So you get your assignment tomorrow?” he asked, falsely nonchalant as he leaned against the doorway to your bedroom.

“First thing,” you nodded, sliding open your closet door and pulling out a synfur-lined parka.

You weren’t even sure why you owned such a thing; the interminably temperate climate on Coruscant had never called for it. But considering you had no idea where you would be sent to, you figured it was best to be prepared for any weather. Tossing it on top of your pack, you turned back to your father.

“You’ll let me know where you’re headed as soon as you can, yes?” he prompted, one eyebrow raised.

“Of course. I’ll stop by your office before we ship out, as long as you aren’t too busy to see me,” you promised, giving him a cheeky grin as you continued. “I know the Director of COMPOR has a very tight schedule.”

“Never too busy for you,” he replied, the worry line between his brows easing away fractionally as he shook his head with a small huff of laughter. “I’ll leave you to get some rest, you’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

You knew the odds of getting any rest tonight were practically nonexistent, but you nodded anyway. 

“Thanks for coming over,” you said, giving him a quick hug.

“Thank you for dinner,” he responded, and you groaned at the memory of your attempt at cookery, the acrid taste of your meal still lingering in your mouth. 

“Sorry for dinner,” you corrected, and he laughed. “Next time I’ll take you out. The Pinnacle, my treat.”

“I look forward to it,” he winked, retreating from the room and calling out a ‘Goodnight!’ over his shoulder.

You echoed it back absently, your thoughts turning once more to your impending assignment before the door had even closed behind him. Grabbing your datapad from your bedside table, you brought up your checklist and ran through it again, unable to shake the nagging feeling you were forgetting something. It was to be expected, you supposed, considering you didn’t really know what you were packing for.

Sighing, you slung your bag and parka off the bed and set them on the floor before changing into your nightclothes and padding down the hall to the fresher. You were struck with a strangely nostalgic feeling midway through cleaning your teeth, realizing that this was the last night you would spend in your apartment on Coruscant for the foreseeable future. Electing not to dwell on it, you returned to your room, climbing under your duvet before shutting off the lights with an air of finality. 

Rolling onto your side, you pulled up the blandest holobook you had stored on your datapad, a very dry guide on the history of the Senatorial District that your father had lent you some time ago. Hoping it would bore you to sleep, you swiped through the pages disinterestedly for a few minutes before abandoning trying to make yourself care about how the Grand Convocation Chamber had been constructed. You watched the lights of the air traffic travel across the wall, doing your best to keep your deployment anxieties at bay until your eyelids finally grew heavy and you slipped into a fitful slumber. 

* * *

  
  


Clutching a thermos of caf, you strode down the hall to the conference room in the COMPOR media wing, your heart beating so loudly you were certain everyone passing by could hear it. Pushing the door open, you grinned in the direction of your crewmember, Kade, before taking a seat next to him at the expansive duskwood table. He had been working alongside you in the studio since you had been hired the previous year, and you had been relieved when he put in a request to transfer with you to this newly formed, COMPOR-funded branch of the HoloNet. Though it wasn’t enough to quell your anxieties entirely, the knowledge that you would be working with someone you knew was something of a balm to the thousands of uncertainties abrading you.

“Did you sleep at all?” Kade asked as you took a sip of caf, wincing as the still-scalding liquid hit your tongue.

“No. Did you?” you replied, your eyes watering slightly as you set your thermos down on the table.

“No, I stayed up all night reading about what to do if either of us gets shot,” he said conversationally, and you sent him a look.

“That’s a cheery thought,” you commented drily, and he shrugged.

“Well, we have no idea what we’re getting into. I’m betting wherever we end up will be a lot more dangerous than HNE studios, and I like to be prepared,” he told you, reaching for your thermos and taking a sip.

“Wait--” you started, cringing as he spluttered for a moment before swallowing and shooting you an accusatory glare.

“Stang, that’s scorching!” he exclaimed, pushing the thermos back towards you as though it was about to attack him. 

“Maybe you should have been reading about how to treat burns,” you quipped, giving him a grin as he swore under his breath.

“If you get shot, I’m not helping you,” he replied, and you laughed, surprised to feel some of the tension in your shoulders easing away despite the grim subject matter.

“I guess I’ll just have to make sure that doesn’t happen then,” you said simply, and he was about to retort when the door opened and your supervisor, Savah Kenec strode in and gave both of you a tight-lipped smile.

“You two look well-rested,” she remarked pointedly, her reproving gaze flitting between you and Kade. 

“We were too excited to sleep,” you told her, and she raised one thin eyebrow at you before retrieving a holoprojector from inside her briefcase and setting it on the table.

“Well, I certainly hope you feel the same after I tell you which battalion you’ve been assigned to,” she said, almost apprehensively, and you both inched forward in your seats as you waited for her to continue. “It’s the 104th.”

You glanced over at Kade, bewildered, and noticed his face had gone a shade paler as he sank back into his seat, one hand pushing through his dark, unruly curls nervously.

“Isn’t that the battalion that lost their entire fleet?” Kade asked, though from the worry in his voice you were certain he knew the answer already. 

Savah gave a clipped nod, and you felt your stomach drop as she switched on the holoprojector, presenting you with a slightly distorted image of a helmeted clone trooper standing alongside a Kel Dor clad in Jedi robes.

“This is Jedi General Plo Koon and CC-3636 or Commander Wolffe, as he is known amongst their battalion,” Savah told you, and you pulled your eyes away from the flickering holo as she continued. “As callous as it may sound, the losses they suffered do make them perfect for playing the heartstrings of the Republic.”

She paused for a moment as if waiting for questions before soldiering on, swiping through to the next image which was of the Clone Commander with his helmet tucked beneath one arm, brows drawn together in an irritable expression. 

“He looks nice,” Kade commented acerbically, and you bit back a huff of laughter, reaching for your thermos and taking a sip of caf.

“ _ Your job _ ,” Savah stressed, fixing the two of you with a serious look, “is to make sure that he makes a better impression on the rest of the Republic than he did on you.”

“Easy, all he has to do is look slightly less like he wants to murder everyone in the vicinity,” Kade replied, shrugging.

“I would highly recommend you refrain from giving such a suggestion to a man who just lost all but two of his men,” Savah told him icily, and both of you fell into chastened silence.

“That’s our angle then? The tragedy of the 104th?” you questioned, and Savah shut the holoprojector off before taking a seat.

“I’d lead in with that, but don’t let it dictate the entire tone of your first piece. You want to end on an uplifting note, something that will give us something to look forward to in the next one. If you begin and end with tragedy, it’ll leave everyone feeling demoralized rather than sympathetic,” she answered, and you nodded, chewing on your lower lip thoughtfully.

“So, maybe focus on how the loss of their fleet strengthened the bond between General Koon and Commander Wolffe?” Kade suggested, and Savah hesitated, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“We’d rather you keep the focus off General Koon except when absolutely necessary,” she said apprehensively, and you frowned.

“I thought we were supposed to be highlighting the Jedi’s relationship with the Republic as well?” you asked, and she gave you a stiff smile.

“When it falls in line with our image, yes,” she told you delicately, pausing for a moment before continuing. “But given the species that make up the Separatist Alliance , we think it best to keep the focus on human subjects for these pieces.”

“Kel Dors are humanoid, are they not?” you pressed, and Savah’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Your point?” she questioned in a clipped tone, leaning forward slightly as you shifted anxiously.

“Well, what if General Koon is offended by being excluded?” Kade interjected, and you resisted the urge to send him a grateful look for chiming in.

“Given the Jedi are rather reluctant military leaders, I imagine he’ll be more relieved than anything that the two of you aren’t giving him a starring role in COMPOR broadcasts,” Savah replied stonily, her mouth setting into a firm line. “Now, do the two of you have any other objections or are you quite through?” 

Both of you were silent for a moment before Kade tentatively raised his hand, drawing an exasperated sigh from Savah as you bit back a smile.

“Yes, Kade?” she said shortly, standing and pocketing the holoprojector once more.

“May I ask where it is we’re being deployed to?” he questioned, and you sat up straighter in anticipation.

“Currently, General Koon’s fleet is stationed in the Outer Rim. The Gold system, I believe,” she told you, and you tried in vain to recall a mental map of the sector before discarding it as she went on. “They’re working on assisting planets loyal to the Republic that have been cut off from receiving supplies due to the Separatist blockade.”

You felt your spirits lift at that, knowing it was highly unlikely you would find yourself in a combat zone while on a humanitarian mission.

“Lead by the heroic Commander Wolffe, our brave boys in white provide life-saving supplies to planets left to starve by the Separatists,” Kade said in his most dramatic reporter voice, shooting you a grin. “I can work with that.”

Savah looked as though she was trying very hard not to roll her eyes and you hid your smile behind the rim of your thermos as you sipped your now tepid caf.

“I’m so glad the assignment is to your liking,” she quipped, pushing her chair back in. “Your shuttle departs in two standard hours from landing pad 3, so if you have any business to attend to prior to take-off, I suggest you step to.”

Striding across the conference room, Savah grasped the door handle and paused, turning back with a slight frown.

“One last thing—I’m sure it goes without saying, but don’t get too friendly with anyone. Be polite, establish as much of a rapport as you need to in order to ensure they feel comfortable opening up to you, but no more. I know the inclination to form friendships with those who you’re working so closely with is natural, but it won’t serve you well here,” she told you, and you gave her a lopsided grin.

“That won’t be a problem. I’ve been working with Kade for a year now and I still can’t stand him,” you replied easily, and her mouth lifted infinitesimally at the corners before becoming grim once more.

“Jocularity aside, I sincerely hope both of you heed my advice. Care enough to make us believe it, but not enough for it to hinder your ability to do your job when you inevitably suffer losses. Do I make myself clear?” she asked, looking between you and Kade sternly.

You nodded in unison with him anyway, assembling your expression into one of utmost solemnity despite feeling the warning was altogether unnecessary. Though you had been joking about the state of your relationship with Kade, it could have easily described how you felt about several of your coworkers. But for the most part, you were largely indifferent towards them and had never been worried over maintaining a line between professional and personal. It was hard to imagine such a concern arising amongst a group of men you had far less in common with than anyone employed by HNE. 

“Good,” Savah said, looking mollified. “I look forward to seeing your first piece,” she added, before slipping through the door and disappearing into the hall. 

* * *

  
  


After topping off your caf in the HNE breakroom, you retrieved your overstuffed pack from your compact office and took a lift to the upper level. Doing your best not to knock anyone with your bag, you made your way through the hall to the Director’s office, nodding at your father’s secretary, Hollys, as you approached. Her mouth twisted in annoyance, and you saw a flash of exasperation in her grey eyes that you knew you deserved after showing up unannounced at least once a week. 

“I’m afraid I already know the answer but I’ll ask you anyway — do you have an appointment?” she questioned resignedly, magnifying his schedule on her datapad. 

“Not technically,” you replied, giving her a guilty smile. “But he did ask me to come by before my shuttle leaves. I promise I won’t keep him too long.”

“See that you don’t. He has a meeting with Crueya Vandron in fifteen standard minutes,” she said imperiously, and you feigned an impressed look, vaguely wondering if you were supposed to know who the blazes he was. 

“You have my word,” you assured Hollys, who made a skeptical expression that indicated exactly how many credits your word was worth to her before waving you past.

Pushing open the door to his expansive, transparisteel-walled office, you unceremoniously dropped your pack to the ground and grinned at your father as he glanced up from his datapad. 

“Well? Have you got your assignment?” he asked without preamble, getting to his feet and looking at you expectantly.

“Hello to you too,” you joked, trying to buy yourself a moment of time before delivering the news. 

He folded his arms over his chest, his mouth turning down at the corners as you drew in a steadying breath. 

“Ro,” he prompted, and you sighed.

“Kade and I are assigned to the 104th,” you told him, biting down on your lower lip nervously as his face fell in dismay before he gave a quick shake of his head as if to discard the notion.

“Absolutely not,” he said, a slight tremor in his voice. “I’ll speak to Kenec and request a transfer immediately.”

“No, you won’t,” you replied evenly, crossing the room and placing your free hand on his forearm. 

“I accepted that I can’t stop you from leaving Coruscant, but I am not sending my only daughter off to the battalion with the highest casualty rate in the GAR!” he nearly shouted, and you took an automatic step back, startled into silence.

Taking a deep breath, he smoothed down the front of his gaberwool tunic as if to collect himself then raised his eyes back to yours.

“Don’t make me plead with you, Ro,” he implored softly, and you felt your heart clench in your chest.

“Savah told us they’re focused on relief efforts right now. We aren’t being sent to any combat zones,” you said quietly, trying to sound reassuring as you went on. “I’ll be perfectly safe.”

“You can’t know that,” he said, desperation giving way to frustration as his eyebrows drew together angrily over the bridge of his nose.

“We’ve been over this. You’re not talking me out of going, and you shouldn’t try to either because when you watch the first feature Kade and I put together about the 104th on HNE, you’re going to be so glad I went,” you told him confidently, smiling slightly as he gave you a wearily acceptant look.

“You leave today then?” he questioned, shoulders slumping in defeat as you nodded.

“In a little under two hours,” you confirmed, and his eyebrows shot up in alarm.

“But that’s hardly any time at all! Let me at least take you out to lunch or even just for a caf before you go,” he spluttered, and you gave him a wry smile.

“I’m all set on caf,” you told him, raising your thermos and glancing at the chrono on his desk. “And I promised Hollys I’d be out of your hair before this Crueya Vandron arrives.” 

“Insufferable bastard,” your father seethed under his breath, and you laughed in surprise before he went on, glowering. “If you met him, you’d agree.”

“Some other time perhaps,” you said with a grin, and he gave you a long-suffering look.

“Do you know when you’ll be back?” he asked after a moment, and you shrugged.

“Not yet. Why? Are you trying to set up a meeting between me and the insufferable bastard?” you questioned, and he let out a huff of laughter.

“No, I’m trying to make sure I mark it on my calendar so Hollys clears my schedule,” he told you, winking as he went on. “I seem to remember I was promised dinner.”

“So it’s not my return you’re looking forward to so much as a meal at The Pinnacle,” you scoffed good-naturedly.

“It’s both,” he assured you, and you smiled at him over the rim of your thermos. “But speaking of, you should get something to eat before your shuttle departs. After that, it’s all ration bars and whatever they’re serving in the mess.”

You nodded, wrinkling your nose in distaste. For whatever reason, you hadn’t really stopped to consider that you’d be eating the same meals as the clone troopers. Hopefully ration bars tasted more appealing than they sounded.

“Well, I should get going before Hollys vapes me. I’ll get in touch as soon as I can,” you promised, and he wrapped you in a quick embrace before stepping back and smoothing his tunic once more. 

“Please do. Have a safe journey,” he told you, and you gave him a small smile.

“Have a good meeting with your friend Crueya,” you replied, earning a fondly exasperated eye-roll from him before you grabbed your pack off the floor and strode out of the office.

Hollys looked at the chrono on her wrist pointedly as you passed, as if to emphasize how close you were cutting it, and you resisted an eye-roll of your own.

“You’ll be glad to know I’m leaving for the Outer Rim shortly, so you won’t have to deal with my unannounced visits for a while,” you said, and she fixed you with a level stare.

“And now I’ll have to deal with your father fretting over you even more than usual,” she sniffed, and you hesitated for a moment.

“Hollys...look after him for me, will you?” you asked quietly, and her stern expression softened slightly.

“I will. Be safe,” she said, and you could almost hear the unspoken  _ because I don’t know what I’ll do with him if something happens to you _ . 

You nodded solemnly, and a brief moment of understanding passed between the two of you before you hitched your pack up higher onto your shoulder and turned to make your way down the hall. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


After meeting with Kade for a quick lunch at a nearby tapcaf, the two of you ran through your equipment checklist and made sure everything was safely stowed in the cargo hull of the  _ Nu _ -class shuttle that would carry you to the Outer Rim. The crew was sparse; aside from you and Kade, the only other passengers were your deactivated recording droid — REC-720, or Sev as you had nicknamed him — and two clone troopers, members of the Coruscant guard that had been commissioned to escort you to the 104th’s location. Apart from the stiff, formal greeting they had issued both of you upon boarding, they hadn’t said another word to you or Kade. You idly wondered whether all the troopers were this reserved, and you frowned to yourself. If they were, it would be a sharp contrast from your experience working with vainglorious politicians that lived to hear the sound of their own voices.

As the shuttle smoothly accelerated out of Coruscant’s orbit and towards the hyperspace jump point, you shared an uneasy look with Kade. The silence in the aircraft seemed to have reached a stifling point, and your mouth was beginning to feel uncomfortably dry. You weren’t entirely sure why you felt so anxious about striking up a simple conversation, but as the minutes wore on it grew more and more difficult to force the words out. 

“So, have either of you ever been to the Outer Rim?” Kade asked abruptly, the way he nervously pushed a hand through his hair belying his casual tone.

“No,” one of the clones answered shortly, not bothering to look back.

Kade looked momentarily crestfallen, and you were about to reach across the distance between your seats and pat him on the knee consolingly when the other clone spoke up.

“Just Coruscant and our homeworld, Kamino,” he told you, hesitating for a moment before continuing. “Have either of you ever been?”

You gave a small shake of the head before realizing neither of them could see it, clearing your throat slightly before responding.

“Never been anywhere further than Pacara,” you said, leaning toward the nose of the ship slightly. 

There was a brief pause and then the trooper turned toward you, the low lights of the shuttle’s interior reflected in his dark T-visor.

“Pacara?” he repeated quizzically, and you nodded. “There’s barely any info on it. What’s out there?”

“Mostly birds. My father’s always been very interested in birdwatching so he took me with him when I was younger. We were hoping to spot a particularly rare one — a Pacaran tree sparrow,” you replied, smiling slightly at the memory.

“Did you?” the clone asked, and you shook your head distractedly. 

You remembered how disappointed in yourself had felt upon leaving the planet after days of searching for one. It had been a little over a year after your mother had left, and you had somehow convinced yourself that if you could find this bird for him that maybe you could find other things that would make him happy again, too. But when you had solemnly apologized to him, he had just given you a small smile and told you that he was lucky because he didn’t have to travel to the Mid Rim to see his favorite sparrow. You left the planet with a new nickname and though over the years it morphed from  _ Sparrow _ to simply  _ Ro _ , hearing it always brought you right back to the forests of Pacara.

“Well, I hope you’re luckier out here,” the clone trooper told you, and you gave him a grateful smile. 

“Thank you,” you replied, watching as his helmet shifted toward Kade momentarily before coming back to rest in your direction.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what is it the two of you are doing with the 104th? All our Commander told us was that we were to escort you to their fleet but he didn’t say anything about what you’d be doing once you arrived. No offense, but neither of you look like soldiers—” he said.

“They clearly aren’t soldiers, Chipper,” the other trooper interjected with a short huff of laughter, and Chipper turned to swat his pauldron.

“Quiet, Limit,” he admonished before swiveling back towards you. 

“We definitely aren’t soldiers,” you confirmed, smiling slightly. “We work for a new branch of HNE.”

“You’re reporters?” Chipper asked, and though you couldn’t see anything through his T-visor you imagined his eyebrows were raised in surprise.

“Not exactly,” you began, fumbling slightly as you tried to think of the best way to describe your role. “HNE reports everything, whether it’s good or bad. Our branch is going to be focusing less on news about the war and more on telling the stories of those fighting it. Sort of like mini HoloFilms about each battalion that will air on HNE, if that makes sense.”

“I wonder if we’ll get to be in one,” Chipper mused, and Limit groaned beside him.

“I kriffing hope not,” he muttered, and Chipper gave him another whack, shaking his head.

“Ignore him. I’m sure you’ll do great,” he said encouragingly, and you gave him a nervous smile. 

“I hope so,” you replied quietly, and the four of you fell into a silence punctuated only by the hum of the sublight drives as the shuttle readied itself to make the jump into hyperspace. 

“So,” Kade said after a moment, “while we’ve got time to kill, can I ask you two something?” 

“Go ahead,” Chipper answered easily, and Limit gave a grunt of assent.

“Did you choose your own names or were they assigned to you on Kamino?” Kade questioned, a little awkwardly as if he was afraid to offend them.

“We’re given numerical designations on Kamino,” Chipper told him patiently. “But it’s more efficient for our Commander to call us by our names than a string of numbers. He got the name Limit because he always seems to be at his—”

“And he got his name because he’s always in such a good mood,” Limit finished, with a tone that suggested he was rolling his eyes beneath his helmet. 

“We balance each other out nicely,” Chipper said pleasantly, and Kade laughed.

You managed a small grin, but it quickly gave way to a frown as Chipper swiveled back towards the viewport. As naive as it sounded to you now, you hadn’t really expected the clones to have such different personalities. Yet here you were, faced with the incontrovertible evidence that while they may have appeared outwardly identical, they could be complete opposites in every other aspect. While you were certain you were far from the first person to make such an assumption, your stomach knotted with guilt and you had a strange urge to apologize for it. But while you had been busy ruminating on your preconceived notions of the clones, the topic of conversation had shifted to bolo-ball and both Limit and Chipper were debating the upcoming Galactic Cup with Kade so you suppressed the urge and instead resolved to do better. 

* * *

  
  
  


At some point during the journey to the Gold system, your lack of sleep from the previous night got the better of you and you dozed off, jolting awake as Chipper requested permission to board. You sat forward in your seat, rubbing your eyes and peering through the viewport at the massive  _ Venator _ -class Star Destroyer you were approaching, watching as the hangar door slid open to allow the shuttle clearance. The landing gear deployed with a series of clicks and whirs before the craft settled in the center of the hangar with a slight tremble, and you stood on wobbly legs as the ramp extended. Stepping aside to allow Chipper and Limit to exit first, you and Kade followed them out of the shuttle and towards two troopers in white and gray armor standing alongside General Plo Koon. You hung back slightly as Chipper and Limit exchanged greetings with the group before parting slightly to allow you through. Between the helmets worn by the troopers and the Antiox mask affixed to the Kel Dor’s face, not a single expression was visible and you had no way of knowing if they were looking down on you in fascination or contempt. 

“Welcome aboard,” General Koon said, his voice rumbling through the modulator with surprising warmth. 

“Thank you,” you blurted, flushing slightly as you added, “Sir.”

“I am Jedi Master Plo Koon,” he told you, inclining his head slightly before gesturing towards the clones standing beside him. “This is Commander Wolffe and Sergeant Sinker.” 

Kade introduced himself as Commander Wolffe reached up to remove his helmet, tucking it beneath one arm as he nodded at your companion.  You were oddly transfixed by the sight, suddenly struck by the realization that you were looking at the face of an entire army. Though you had seen the faces of various clones on the news, it was entirely different to be standing in front of one rather than watching them on HNE or viewing them through the distorted blue light of a holoprojection.

The biggest difference was in his eyes. His general appearance, from the close-cropped haircut a majority of the clones seemed to favor to his prominent cheekbones and strong jaw, was recognizable enough from the image Savah had shown you. But there was no holocam in the galaxy that possessed the technology to accurately capture the color of his eyes. They were such a light brown they seemed almost golden, as if tinged by the rays of a setting sun, but contained none of its warmth. 

“Hey,” Kade muttered, snapping you out of your reverie with a jolt, “introduce yourself.”

You did so clumsily, your ears going hot with embarrassment as the Commander nodded at you with barely concealed disdain. 

“A pleasure to meet you both. I’m afraid Commander Wolffe and I must return to the bridge, but Sergeant Sinker can show you to your rooms,” General Koon said, and you tried to wipe the embarrassment off your face as you turned toward him.

“Thank you both,” you replied as earnestly as you could, Kade echoing the sentiment from beside you.

General Koon bowed his head politely in response before pivoting on his heel and striding away, the click of his boots amplified in the hanger. Commander Wolffe simply jammed his helmet back on and turned to follow him without another word, leaving the two of you with Sergeant Sinker. He waited patiently as you helped Chipper and Limit unload your things from the cargo bay, watching as you activated Sev so that you didn’t have to lug him around the ship.

“Hello!” Sev trilled, flying over to the Sergeant. “I am REC-720 but you may call me Sev.”

“Nice to meet you, Sev,” he replied, reaching up and patting the droid lightly as one would greet a pet. “You can call me Sinker.”

“Sinker! What an interesting name,” Sev said, and you shot the Sergeant an apologetic look.

“Sorry, he can be quite talkative,” you told him, and he shrugged as if to say it didn’t bother him. 

“Wonder where he gets it from,” Limit groused, and you grinned in his direction.

“I hope you get some peace and quiet on the way back,” you said, looking between him and Chipper sincerely. “Thank you for getting us here safely.”

They nodded in tandem and brief goodbyes were exchanged before they turned and made their way back up the ramp into the shuttle. You felt a sudden flash of panic as the landing gear retracted, seized by the urge to call after them to wait, but it passed as quickly as it had taken hold of you and you forced yourself to take a steadying breath. Hoisting your pack up onto your shoulder, you reached down and grabbed the handle of one of your equipment cases, waiting as Sev floated over to hover at your side before looking at Sinker.

“Ready for the tour?” he asked, his T-visor swiveling between you and Kade as you nodded.

“I’m ready!” Sev chirped excitedly, and you heard Sinker let out a brief huff of laughter from beneath his helmet.

“Then let’s go.”

* * *

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  



	2. chapter two

_sharp & glorious thorn_ **;** chapter two

“We’re definitely going to get lost,” Kade muttered as the two of you trotted after Sinker through the massive ship, doing your best to keep pace with his brisk, efficient stride. 

“Maybe we should have Sev record this so we can play it back every time we need to figure out how to get to the mess,” you replied in an undertone, only half-joking.

“Would you like me to begin recording?” Sev chirped from where he hovered just over your shoulder, emitting a faint whirring sound as his image stabilizers activated. 

“No, I was just kidding, Sev, but thanks,” you told him, reaching up to pat the top of his domed head appreciatively. 

“I know it seems like a lot to memorize,” Sinker said, turning slightly to glance back at you, “but I promise you’ll get the hang of it in no time. And we’ll be off  _ Triumphant  _ soon enough, so you’ll have something else to worry about besides finding your way around.”

“What do you mean,  _ something else to worry about _ ?” Kade asked, jogging ahead of Sinker and halting in the middle of the corridor, fixing him with a worried stare. “We were told that your battalion was currently focused on relief efforts.”

Sinker tensed visibly beneath his armor, letting out a short sigh beneath his helmet before continuing on.

“We are, but not just that. It may not seem like there’s much in this sector at first glance, but Soccoro’s asteroid belts are full of Doonium,” he began, catching the confused look you exchanged with Kade before adding, “it’s a material used in nearly every ship in the GAR fleet.” 

“Okay,” Kade said slowly, still sounding just as bewildered as you felt, clearly trying to puzzle out what this had to do with a humanitarian mission.

“Currently, the Soccoro government is loyal to the Republic but the mines here are privately owned, meaning there’s nothing to stop them doing business with the Seps if it’s advantageous for them,” Sinker explained, and your brow furrowed.

“So you’re here to provide relief and to act as a deterrent in case they try to move in on this sector?” you questioned, and Sinker nodded. 

“The other two planets in the Outer Rim that mine Doonium were lost to the Seps before we even realized it was something we had to keep an eye on. But we have reason to believe they intend to move in on this one, and as demand for it grows, we can’t afford to lose any more access to it if we want to keep ships in the air,” Sinker replied, and you frowned to yourself. 

“There’s potential for a Sep invasion then?” Kade asked anxiously as the three of you descended a short flight of stairs. 

“Our presence on Soccoro should be enough to dissuade them from attempting anything,” Sinker answered warily, placing a heavy emphasis on the word ‘ _ should _ ’, “but yes, it is a possibility.” 

You really hoped that possibility didn’t make it’s way back to Coruscant, particularly to the COMPOR offices. 

“Moving on,” Sinker said conversationally, all traces of unease scrubbed away from his voice, “to our left is the entrance to the mess. I’d avoid the nerf casserole if I were you, unless you want to get very familiar with what the inside of a vactube looks like—”

“Understood,” you interjected in a rush, your stomach turning unpleasantly. 

“Sorry,” Sinker told you, wincing apologetically. “The ration bars are bland but they’re a safe bet when you don’t like the looks of the hot meal being served.” 

You wrinkled your nose in distaste, already feeling nostalgic for the scrambled hawkbat eggs and thick, buttered toast you had eaten at the tapcaf before departing Coruscant. Even your botched attempt at roasted Fondor fowl from the previous night sounded more appealing than nerf casserole, and you tried unsuccessfully to quell your self-pity at the prospect of going weeks without anything remotely appetizing. If there wasn’t at least a decent cup of caf to be found aboard, you weren’t sure you were going to make it that long. 

“Freshers,” Sinker continued on, pointing at a row of doors, each one marked with a depiction of either a vactube or sanisteam, “and just ahead we have the barracks. You’ve been assigned beds but if you want to trade I’ll leave that up to you.”

The doors at the end of the corridor parted and you entered a large, brightly lit space lined wall to wall with empty bunk-beds. Relieved that Sinker couldn’t see your dismayed expression, you followed him through the rows of beds, a sudden panic welling up inside of you. Between your unfamiliarity with the ship, the unpalatable food, and the dormitory-like sleeping arrangements, this was all reminding you too much of your first day at University. Except instead of sharing a room with one stranger, you had to share it with at least a hundred.

“Here we are,” Sinker announced as you reached a far corner of the room, gesturing at a bunk-bed set against the wall. “I’ll let you two figure out who’s sleeping where.”

“Thank you for the tour,” Kade told him earnestly, setting his things down and sliding them beneath the bunk. 

“Yes, thanks,” you echoed weakly, stowing your bags beside his before powering Sev down with a quiet, “sleep well, little guy.” 

“I’ll leave you to settle in,” Sinker said, looking between you two from beneath his helmet. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

You weren’t sure if he was joking, but the idea of either you or Kade knowing where to find him on this massive ship was so ludicrous that you let out a short laugh anyway. 

“Thanks again,” Kade replied, offering a smile, and Sinker nodded at him before pivoting smartly on his heel and striding back towards the exit.

As soon as he was out of earshot, you sank down onto the bottom bunk with Sev in your lap and looked up at Kade miserably.

“We really have to sleep in here?” you asked him, not really caring how whiny you sounded in the otherwise deserted barracks. 

“I guess so,” Kade shrugged, flopping down beside you with a frustratingly unconcerned expression. “I mean, I kind of thought we might get our own room but it’s probably for the best that we didn’t.”

“How?” you snapped in disbelief. “Nevermind sleeping, how are we supposed to get any editing or anything done without a place to work?”

“Well, it seems like this area is pretty much empty during the day,” Kade replied, glancing around the room. “And besides, I don’t think it would look very good for us to get private quarters when the guys doing all the dangerous work have to sleep in here, do you?” 

You were silent, resentfully admitting to yourself that he was right. 

“I’ll let you take your pick,” Kade said cajolingly, giving you a little smile, and you returned it begrudgingly. “Top or bottom?”

“Top,” you replied quickly, standing up and scrambling up the ladder to claim your spot on the bed, leaning over to peer down at him.

“Good. I think the bottom bunks are a little comfier,” Kade remarked, patting it as if to test this theory as you rolled your eyes.

“They’re all the same you moof-milker,” you muttered, and he laughed as you rolled onto your back and bounced a couple of times, relieved that the mattress wasn’t nearly as unforgiving as it looked. 

“You better not do that all night,” Kade warned, and you grabbed the flat pillow from beneath your head and chucked it at him in response. “Thanks for the extra pillow,” he added, and you huffed in annoyance, reaching down to take it back. 

You cradled it to your chest, staring up at the ceiling as you contemplated this bizarre new living arrangement for a long moment before sighing and sitting up.

“I suppose we should get the equipment set up,” you said, climbing down the ladder and sitting cross-legged on the floor as you pulled a case toward you and undid its fasteners. 

Kade set to work assembling the hyperwave transceiver while you set up the datapad and waited for it to connect to the HoloNet. After a moment, it dinged with an incoming message and you pulled it up on the screen, groaning to yourself as you read through it. Passing it over to Kade to see for himself, you buried your face in your hands melodramatically. 

“I’ll bet Savah sent that message before we even left the conference room,” Kade told you drily, handing you back the datapad.

“We’ve been here all of two standard hours and she wants us to send something over by Taungsday? And she wants us to ask Commander Wolffe about Abregado?” you said incredulously, scanning the message again just to ensure you hadn’t misunderstood.

“We were going to have to interview him sooner or later,” Kade replied, unbothered, and you sighed in annoyance.

“Two days is hardly enough time to interview him, edit, and send something over when we don’t even know our way around the ship yet,” you retorted, and he sent you a questioning glance.

“We’ve put together pieces in much less time than that,” he said, and you shook your head, dismissing his point.

“Yes but he hates me,” you told him matter-of-factly, swatting at Kade as he let out a surprised laugh. 

“He doesn’t  _ hate  _ you! He doesn’t even know you,” he replied, and you glowered at him before composing a short message to your father to let him know you had made it safely.

“He does hate me,” you insisted, sending it off and looking back up at Kade. “You saw the face he made at me, like I was something stuck to the bottom of his boot—”

“I’m pretty sure that’s just his default expression,” Kade said consolingly, and you snorted with unamused laughter. 

“Well, we’re going to have to do something about that for this interview then,” you muttered, stowing the datapad back beneath the bunk and standing up. 

Your stomach grumbled suddenly, alerting you to the fact that had been far too long since your last meal, and you looked at Kade.

“Want to go see what they’ve got in the mess?” you asked, and he nodded, getting to his feet. 

You sincerely hoped it wasn’t nerf casserole.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Thankfully they were not serving casserole of any sort but rather meat and root vegetable stew with dry, crumbly-looking squares of something called mealbread. After you and Kade received your trays, you scanned the mess in vain, as if you would spot a familiar face amongst the scattered troopers. Technically, you considered, all of their faces were familiar to you at this point but the only one you could have definitively named was Commander Wolffe and to your relief, he was nowhere to be found. 

“This really reminds me of university,” you grumbled, following Kade to an empty table off to the side as you tried to ignore the curious glances sent in your direction. 

“Your cafeteria was usually full of soldiers? We must have had pretty different university experiences then,” Kade quipped, and you shot him a look as you broke off a corner of mealbread and popped it in your mouth. 

“You know what I meant,” you told him quietly, chasing the dry bite down with a sip of water, “Don’t you feel out of place?”

Kade shrugged, taking a thoughtful bite of his stew.

“I guess, in some ways,” he answered finally. “But no more out of place than I’ve felt around some of the guests we’ve had on at HNE. I had more in common with Chipper and Limit than I’ve had with any of the politicians we’ve dealt with.”

You had to admit that you agreed with him in that regard. Despite being raised by a politician, you had always felt a little uneasy around a majority of them. While your father had initially hoped you might study domestic affairs, it quickly became clear you had no real affinity for politics. You were too impatient to be content working for a system that moved at the pace of the Hutts, and you had never been good at the particular brand of posturing that seemed to be a prerequisite to a career in government. 

There had been numerous instances following your graduation from university that had left you wondering whether you had made the right choice by opting to major in communications rather than one of the areas of study deemed more practical by your father. You had been so insistent to him that there was more than one way to have an impact on the lives of the citizens of the Republic, but secretly questioned how exactly working on segments about politicians was any better than being one yourself. So when your father had told you about the new COMPOR-funded division of HNE, you had practically leaped at the chance to transfer, feeling like it was your chance to truly make a difference. And yet here you were complaining about the opportunity to do so just because it wasn’t exactly what you envisioned. 

“Hey,” Kade said, his brow furrowed with concern. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you replied, giving him a small smile and breaking off another piece of mealbread.

It didn’t taste so bad the second time around.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The remainder of your first day aboard  _ The Triumphant  _ passed without incident, barring a slight mishap with the sanisteam that resulted in wasting half of your allotted time while you tried to figure out how to adjust the settings. You felt slightly self-conscious as you returned to the barracks, your hair frazzled from trying to towel the soap from it that you hadn’t been able to rinse out before the water cut off, certain that you resembled a drowned tooka. Kade looked up from his bed as you approached, a wide grin spreading across his face, and you gave him a withering stare. 

“How’s the water pressure?” he joked, setting down the datapad as you sat down beside him. 

“Like being softly cried on,” you muttered, reaching over and grabbing the datapad to check for messages from your father.

“Sounds great,” he snorted, getting to his feet and making his way through the rows of beds. 

You watched with mild interest as he paused to talk to a trooper with short silver hair and matching brows who gave him a friendly clap on the shoulder before continuing over to your bunk. 

“Just wanted to come and see how you were doing,” he said, and you realized the trooper was Sinker. “Settling in alright?”

“Yes, thank you,” you replied, giving him a small smile. “I like your hair.”

“Thanks,” he grinned, running a hand over it. “Might add a blue stripe for the Galactic Cup.”

“You support Bylluran Athletic?” you asked, surprised that he backed a Sullustan team rather than Coruscant United. 

“Well, sort of. It’s more just to annoy my buddy, Boost. He’s a die-hard Cor-U supporter,” Sinker explained, leaning in conspiratorially. 

“I might be with your buddy on that one,” you told him, grinning. “Homeworld loyalty and all.”

“Fair enough. You better hope for Boost’s sake that my team doesn’t win, because if they do he’s got to shave his head,” Sinker replied, and you laughed. 

“And if we win?” you questioned, and he grimaced slightly.

“I’ve got to get a tattoo of Cor-U’s mascot  _ and  _ Boost gets to pick where it goes,” he said, wrinkling his nose with distaste. 

“Well, I hope you like hawk-bats then,” you grinned, “because we’re definitely going to win.”

“We’ll see,” Sinker said told you breezily, winking before striding off in the direction of his bunk.

You turned back to your datapad, still smiling. Feeling buoyed by the moment of camaraderie, you quickly read and responded to the new messages that had come in before getting to work on putting together a list of questions for Commander Wolffe. You wondered idly if he was a bolo-ball fan as well and made a mental note to ask him tomorrow, hoping that it would give the two of you some common ground. 

Maybe by this time tomorrow, all your worries about the stoic Commander and his apparent dislike for you would be gone.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You were quickly realizing that while that thought may have been a comforting one, it was also highly unlikely. After a quick breakfast in the mess with Kade that had mercifully included a cup of caf, you had grabbed your datapad and activated Sev before making your way to the bridge. General Plo and Commander Wolffe were standing around the holodisplay table, looking at a map of Soccoro, their quiet conversation halting abruptly as you approached. 

“Do you need something?” Wolffe asked sharply, glancing up for a brief moment before his eyes flicked back down to the display. 

Catching your pleading look, Kade cleared his throat and took a step forward.

“Actually, we were hoping to speak with you, sir,” he said tentatively. 

“Can it wait? I’m rather busy at the moment,” he told Kade curtly, swiping the display to a replica of Soccoro’s asteroid belts.

“Actually, Commander,” General Plo said, his voice a gentle rumble through his Antiox mask, “I do need to speak with the Council. We can reconvene afterward.” 

Wolffe’s expression stiffened ever so slightly, his mouth set in a firm line before he nodded.

“Very good, General,” he said impassively, powering off the holodisplay. “This shouldn’t take too long.”

You were quite certain that what he actually meant by that statement was,  _ this better not take too long _ , and exchanged a nervous look with Kade, who was doing his best to look unperturbed by Wolffe’s clear reluctance.

“It won’t,” he promised, offering a reassuring grin. 

“Fine. Let’s get this over with, shall we?” the Commander groused, stalking off the bridge and leaving the two of you to hurry along after him. 

You followed him down a short corridor and into a brightly lit room that was modestly furnished with a small collection of chairs, a caf-maker sitting on a table in one of the corners. 

“Will this work?” he asked tersely, glowering at you almost as if he was challenging you to say no. 

The illumi-strip lighting was far too harsh and you knew it would wash him out in a way that would be impossible to fix in the editing process. If he had been one of the guests you were used to dealing with at HNE, you would have insisted on correcting it now, but you didn’t think he’d have the patience for that. Given his aversion to being interviewed to begin with, you doubted that he’d care how he looked in the final piece anyway so you just nodded and pulled up the list of questions on your datapad as Kade got Sev all set up. 

“Where do you want me?” Wolffe asked gruffly, setting his helmet down on one of the chairs and looking at you expectantly.

“Whatever chair you like best,” you replied, attempting a smile.

He stared at you.

“They’re all the same,” he said flatly, and your cheeks flushed slightly, unsure if he had missed your weak attempt at a joke or if he simply preferred making you feel like an idiot.

“It doesn’t really matter,” you told him, trying to sound unbothered, and he sank into the one closest to him with an irritable expression.

“So,” you began, recalling the mental note you had made the night before as you took a seat opposite him, “are you a bolo-ball fan?” 

“Is that really one of the questions you have for me?” he asked, a note of incredulity in his sharp voice. 

“Just making conversation,” you replied, reminding yourself to never attempt such a thing with him again.

“I don’t really have the time to watch bolo-ball,” he told you testily, “or to make conversation. So if we could just get to the actual questions—”

“Right, okay,” you said tightly, heat spreading from your cheeks to the tips of your ears, busying yourself with your notes so that he didn’t see your embarrassed expression. 

Sev was hovering around him, sensors whirring as he focused, and you noticed the glare of annoyance the Commander shot in the droid’s direction, as if Sev was a mosquito he desperately wanted to swat. Turning back towards you, he began impatiently drumming his fingers on one armored knee and you cleared your throat, setting the datapad down in your lap. Suddenly your mouth was very dry, every question you had come up with feeling entirely wrong.

“Can you tell us a bit about yourself?” you asked finally, and he frowned deeply.

“Don’t you already have access to my file?” he replied, the angry line between his brows becoming more pronounced by the second.

“It’s not for us,” Kade clarified, his voice measured and pleasant. “It’s for the viewers.”

Wolffe let out a long-suffering sigh, tipping his head back and looking at the ceiling as if he could will it to come crashing down on him and cut the whole ordeal short before straightening back up and giving his rank and title in a businesslike tone. 

“Anything else you want to share about yourself?” Kade questioned hopefully, and Wolffe paused for a moment.

“No,” he answered decisively, and you groaned internally. 

You were beginning to think you’d have an easier time trying to beat a fathier in a footrace than you would trying to get any usable material from this interview. 

“Okay, well I guess we’ll just get right into it then,” you said uncomfortably, shifting slightly in your chair. “Can you tell us about your experience during the Battle of Abregado?”

Wolffe froze for a moment, his expression turning stormy.

“I already filed my report on that. I can get you redacted copies if you like,” he told you stiffly, his jaw tightening.

“That would be helpful, thank you,” you replied, hesitating for a moment. “But we’re interested to hear your perspective on it, too.”

“Everything I have to say about it is in that report,” he snapped, and you recoiled, looking to Kade for support.

“Commander, I realize this is difficult to talk about but—” Kade began gently, and Wolffe glared up at him.

“You want to talk about it? Here’s what happened. The Seps jammed our communications. They destroyed our cruisers. I lost nearly all my men. Is that enough to be getting on with, or do you need me to embellish it for you?” he demanded, and both of you were quiet for a moment. 

“I’m sorry,” Kade said finally, clearly unsure of how to proceed.

“I’m sorry, too,” you told him, imbuing the words with as much sympathy as you could muster. “But we have specific instructions from our supervisor to ask you about it—”

“Well, you’ve done that. So move on,” Wolffe interrupted, and you frowned slightly.

“You haven’t given us much to work with,” you remarked, frustration getting the better of you.

“What would you like me to do? Cry for the men I lost?” he asked scornfully, not waiting for an answer before continuing on. “If you wanted a Holodrama, you should have hired a karking actor.”

Standing up, he swatted Sev out of his way angrily.

“Don’t hit my droid, please,” you seethed as Sev let out a frightened noise, and Wolffe glared at you.

“I’m needed back on the bridge,” he said shortly, crossing to the door and leaving you and Kade to stare at each other in dismay.

“Well,” you said after a moment, giving Sev a soothing pat, “I don’t think that could have possibly gone any worse.”

“Agreed,” Kade sighed, slumping into the chair beside you with a grimace.

“It’s really hard interviewing someone who doesn’t want to talk about themselves,” you told him, almost defensively. “It was so much easier with politicians.”

“I don’t blame you. And I don’t blame him for not wanting to talk to us,” Kade shrugged, and you shot him a look. “What? I mean, how would you feel if you were asked to relive the most traumatic experience of your life in front of two strangers?”

“And me,” Sev chimed in, and Kade gave a small snort of laughter, reaching up to pat him.

“And you,” he amended. “No offense buddy, but I don’t think he likes droids too much.”

“I don’t think he likes any of us too much,” you corrected, and this time, Kade didn’t bother to contradict you. 

“Savah never should have sprung that on us so soon. He barely knows us, much less trusts us. Of course he’s not going to want to talk to us about such a sensitive topic,” he said irritably, and you let out a short, unamused laugh.

“You know she doesn’t care about that, right? She’ll expect a finished piece by the end of tomorrow anyway,” you replied, and he groaned. 

“Well, we can at least put together something using whatever footage we get of this relief mission. That will have to do until we can get him to open up a bit more,” Kade shrugged, and you nodded, unsure of what else you could do. 

Your ruminations were interrupted as Sinker strode through the door, stopping short and looking between you and Kade with a quizzical expression. 

“Hello, Sinker!” Sev trilled happily, zooming over to him.

“Hello, Sev,” he smiled, giving the droid a friendly pat before crossing to the caf-maker and dispensing a cup. “What are you all doing in here?” 

“We were just having a nice chat with your Commander,” Kade answered drily, prompting a short laugh from Sinker.

“Doesn’t sound like him,” he remarked amusedly, taking a sip of his drink. “He doesn’t really do nice chats.”

“We noticed,” you deadpanned, trying to sound unbothered by it, but Sinker must have caught something in your expression because his smile faded quickly.

“Look, I know it’s easier said than done, but try not to take it personally,” he told you quietly, looking slightly uncomfortable. “He’s just trying to do his job and keep his men safe, and that doesn’t leave room to care about much else.”

You gave him a short, chastened nod.

“I understand,” you said, which felt like an overstatement, “but we have a job, too, and unfortunately it kind of hinges on his cooperation.”

“Give him some time,” Sinker replied consolingly, “he’ll come around.”

Unfortunately, you doubted he would between now and the following evening but Sinker seemed so certain of this that all you could do was nod again. 

“Cheer up!” Sinker exclaimed, giving you both a reassuring grin. “We’re about to start landing procedures. You ever been in a Larty?” 

“A what?” Kade asked, nonplussed.

“Gunship,” Sinker clarified, downing the last of his caf and disposing of his cup into the garbage chute set into the wall. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

You weren’t sure if you and Sinker were in agreement as far as what constituted fun, but given the disastrous morning you were having, you were just thankful for a distraction. Getting to your feet, you and Kade followed Sinker out of the room and down the corridor, Sev hovering over your shoulder. 

“Sinker,” you began apprehensively, debating for a moment before continuing. “Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead,” Sinker nodded as you made your way to the hangar. 

“Would you happen to know if Commander Wolffe ever watches bolo-ball?” you said, feeling Kade’s questioning stare boring into you. 

“He doesn’t take part in any of the betting or anything like the lads, that would be too undignified for a Commander” Sinker replied, giving you a grin as he turned to glance back at you. “But he’s a big Cor-U supporter, just like you.”

“Is he?” you asked, doing your best to sound only mildly interested as you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from grinning back.

“Unfortunately,” Sinker nodded, drawing a laugh from you. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” you answered quickly, waiting until he had turned back around to let a smile unfurl across your face.

Perhaps you and Wolffe did have some common ground after all.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘


	3. chapter three

_sharp & glorious thorn_ **;** chapter three

Soccoro was, as Kade so eloquently put it, a complete dirtball. The capital, Vakeyya, was comprised of low structures that seemed to have been sculpted of the same red dust that made up the entire planet, more closely resembling a series of rock formations than a major city. A number of the storefronts you had passed had been boarded up, the cracked ferrocrete streets largely empty save for a forlorn procession of antiquated, rusted-out groundcars and a few bedraggled citizens. 

You and Kade had tried your best to stay out of the way as the troopers began unloading supplies from the LAAT/i gunships, standing in the shadow of one of the buildings to try to escape from the sun bearing down on the deteriorating city. Sweat trickled down your back and you pulled at your collar in an effort to vent the heat trapped beneath your shirt, already missing the climate-controlled  _ Triumphant.  _ While Kade fiddled with the transceiver, you watched as Wolffe lifted his helmet off and began brusquely issuing orders to the troopers assembled around him, a sheen of perspiration on his forehead. A sympathetic frown pulled at your lips for a moment, rapidly dissipating as his gaze shifted toward you, and you hastily looked away, feeling oddly embarrassed. 

“Savah wants a word,” Kade told you unenthusiastically, looking up from the missive on the datapad and pulling the holoprojector out of his pack. 

“Great,” you groaned, taking it and retreating back into an alleyway with Kade in tow before switching it on and trying to assemble your expression into something pleasant as Savah’s image materialized in the palm of your hand. 

“Are you experiencing equipment issues? I still haven’t received anything from you,” she said, her tone clipped. 

“No, no issues, but we just landed on Soccoro,” you explained, raising a hand to wipe away the sweat beading on your brow. “We’ll need a bit of time to get set up and put something together.”

“Well, in the meantime, send me the footage of your interview with Commander Wolffe so I can review it,” she said tartly, and you hesitated, shooting a nervous glance at Kade. “You have spoken to him, haven’t you?” she added, a sharp note of impatience in her voice.

“Yes, but I don’t think anything from that interview is usable,” you replied, flinching internally as she pressed her lips into a thin line.

“And why is that?” she questioned, and you paused again, searching for the right way to phrase it. 

“He really didn’t want to participate, and it’s very clear in the footage,” you began, sighing before continuing. “We’re going to need some time to get him to feel more comfortable speaking to us.”

“How much time?” she said shortly, folding her arms across her chest as you looked to Kade for assistance. 

“It’s hard to say,” he told her carefully. “He’s not exactly thrilled about us being here.”

“I was given every assurance that these clones, no matter their rank, would cooperate with our efforts. Are you telling me that’s not the case?” she asked, and you felt an unaccountable flare of annoyance. 

“Technically, he did answer our questions,” Kade replied, sounding as defensive as you felt. “But he doesn’t trust us, and until he does, I don’t think we’ll get much out of him.”

“You’ve been given the same level of security clearance as his own men. Why wouldn’t he trust you?” Savah snapped, and you fought back an eyeroll. 

“Let me rephrase that,” Kade said, sounding on the verge of snapping right back. “He doesn’t  _ like  _ us, and until we have a better relationship with him—”

“His participation is part of his duty to the Republic,” Savah interjected icily. “Perhaps you could remind him of that if he continues to be uncooperative.”

You gave an involuntary snort of unamused laughter at the mere thought, quickly regaining your composure as Savah’s eyes flashed angrily. 

“All due respect,” Kade told her drily, “but I don’t think that would go over well at all. He takes his duties extremely seriously, but I don’t think he considers this one of them.”

“Then do what you have to in order to make him understand that it is,” Savah replied, “and remember that it’s not Commander Wolffe’s approval you need, it’s mine. Do I make myself clear?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” you and Kade answered in unison, her reminder dousing out the flames of your indignation. 

“Good. I’ll be waiting for your transmission.” Savah said curtly, and the holo cut out, leaving you staring at the device in your palm with a frown. 

“Well, that went about as well as the interview did,” you muttered, pocketing the holoprojector as you returned to the spot you had left your equipment.

Kade shrugged dismissively, glancing up at you as he set to transmitting the footage back to Coruscant. “It’s fine. She’ll understand that she’s being unreasonable once she watches this.”

“But what if she doesn’t? I can’t mess this up,” you said anxiously, chewing on your lower lip. “If I do, everyone will think I was only given this job because of who my father is and that I don’t actually know what I’m doing—”

“Hey, calm down. You’re not in this alone,” Kade cut in, getting to his feet and clapping you on the shoulder. “Let’s grab some footage so we have something to put together for her today, and we’ll worry about Commander Wolffe later. Okay?” 

Not entirely convinced, you nodded, attempting a smile.

“Okay.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

  
  


It took you less than five standard minutes to realize that the picturesque scene you had envisioned in Savah’s office of clones heroically aiding the grateful inhabitants of Vakeyya would not be coming to fruition. For the most part, the Soccorans seemed content to keep to themselves, going about their days as though the clones weren’t even there. Something told you they preferred it that way, but it gave you little to focus on apart from Wolffe, helmet tucked under one arm as he issued commands. Looking thoroughly miserable in the heat, his scowl intensified as soon as he noticed Sev’s camera trained on him, jamming his helmet back on while you gave an exasperated sigh that you secretly hoped he noticed. 

By the time the sun finally sunk below the horizon, wreathing the city in dusk as transports full of weary workers began to arrive back from the Doonium mines, you had only collected about an hour’s worth of usable footage. Taking a seat beside Kade on some empty supply crates beneath one of the makeshift shelters, you picked at your tasteless ration bar as you scanned through the playback. 

“Honestly, I think I’d choose nerf casserole over this. At least that has a flavor,” you remarked, giving the bar a distasteful look. 

“I bet it’s not a very good flavor,” Kade replied, taking a sip of water in between bites. 

“You’re right about that,” Sinker told him, ducking beneath the overhang of the shelter with another trooper in tow. 

Settling onto a couple of crates, they lifted their helmets off in unison and you offered the unfamiliar clone a small smile, taking in the two vivid red stripes of hair running across his scalp. 

“This is Boost,” Sinker said, jerking his head toward him and tearing open his ration packet as Boost nodded in greeting before doing the same. 

“So, how are you two enjoying Soccoro?” Kade asked jokingly, and Boost snorted.

“Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’d rather be getting blasted at by clankers than be stuck on this sorry excuse for a planet,” he grumbled. 

“How long  _ are _ we stuck here exactly?” you questioned, pausing the footage and looking between Boost and Sinker worriedly. 

“Not long, I hope. All the supplies have been distributed, now it’s just a waiting game to see if the Sep fleet in the next system over moves on or not,” Sinker shrugged, taking a bite of his bar. 

“So we just sit here and hope they don’t launch an invasion?” you said incredulously, drawing a short laugh from both clones.

“That’s the thing about war,” Sinker told you with a wry smile, “there’s a lot more sitting around than you would think. Normally I wouldn’t mind a little break from the action but unless someone’s got a holocaster down here, we’re going to miss the Cup.”

“The only thing you’re missing is watching your team get thrashed,” Boost snorted, and Sinker jabbed an elbow at him in response. 

“Have you given any thought to where that hawk-bat tattoo is going?” you asked him, sharing a conspiratorial grin with Boost. 

“Sinker told you about the bet?” he replied, and you nodded, crumpling your empty packet and stashing it in a pocket. “I was thinking I’ll have him shave one side of his head and put it right there—” he told you, putting a hand just over Sinker’s ear to illustrate this, “—so everyone knows what a big Cor-U supporter he is.” 

“I’m going to tell everyone that you’re such a big fan of Bylluran, you shaved your head to look even more like a Sullustan than you already do,” Sinker countered, and Boost rolled his eyes exaggeratedly.

“We have the same face, you barve,” he said good-naturedly, and Sinker shook his head.

“No, I’m definitely prettier than you are,” he told Boost, turning slightly to look at you and Kade. “Don’t you agree?” 

“I’ll take sides where bolo-ball is concerned, but I’m not getting involved in this,” you laughed, abruptly going silent as Wolffe ducked beneath the shelter. 

“Commander,” Boost said easily, “who’s prettier? Me or Sinker?” 

“Not this again,” Wolffe sighed, shaking his head slightly before frowning at Sev, who was currently resting in your lap, paused footage hovering over his domed body.

“I’ll need to have a look at everything you’ve recorded on that droid before you send it off anywhere,” he said brusquely, and you subconsciously pulled Sev a little closer, looking up at Wolffe concernedly.

“Why?” you blurted out, watching as his brows drew together incrementally. 

“To make sure there’s nothing that compromises the integrity of our operation,” he replied as if it should have been perfectly obvious, and you bristled slightly.

“How could footage of you all unloading cases of canned goods possibly compromise anything?” you said, unable to stop the growing note of annoyance in your voice. 

“Are you suggesting you know better than I do what constitutes a security threat?” he questioned, cocking one eyebrow at you, and you felt Kade’s hand squeeze your shoulder as if to silently advise you against responding. 

You pushed it away irritably, scowling up at Wolffe.

“No, I’m suggesting it’s unnecessary. And considering what you did to Sev this morning, I don’t really want you messing with him,” you retorted, and he stiffened, drawing himself up to his full height. 

“Are you refusing?” he asked, his jaw tightening, and Kade shook his head fervently next to you.

“Of course not, sir,” he replied easily, giving Wolffe a winning smile. “You’ll have to excuse her, she’s a little overprotective of Sev.” 

“I won’t harm your precious droid,” Wolffe huffed, looking only slightly mollified. “You have my word.” 

“Fine. Take him. But if he comes back with even a  _ scratch _ —” you warned, stopping abruptly as you realized you were quite possibly the least intimidating person he had ever encountered and that there was absolutely nothing you could threaten him with. 

He seemed to realize this at the same moment you did and you could have sworn you saw the corner of his mouth twitch up for the briefest of seconds before it set into a thin line once more, his expression so serious it was almost mocking.

“Not a scratch,” he promised, and you reluctantly handed Sev up to him, watching as he ducked back out of the temporary structure and strode away. 

“Kriff’s sake,” Kade said accusatorily as soon as he was out of earshot, his voice uncharacteristically harsh. “What was that all about?” 

You caught the uneasy glance exchanged between Boost and Sinker and your cheeks went hot as you rounded on Kade.

“What do you mean? No one said anything to me about our footage needing to be reviewed, he’s just doing that to be difficult,” you shot back, and Kade let out an impatient sigh.

“He’s not the only one being difficult,” he remarked, and you were about to reply when Boost and Sinker abruptly stood, looking uncomfortable.

“We’ll, uh, leave you two to sort this out,” Sinker told you awkwardly, and you heard Kade begin to tell him to wait before seemingly thinking better of it and nodding as they exited the tent.

“Do you realize how unprofessional it makes us look when you speak to him like that? In front of his own men?” Kade hissed, and you recoiled as if you had been slapped. 

“You made us look just as bad by reprimanding me in front of them,” you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest angrily. 

“That’s different,” he replied dismissively, waving the concern away. “He’s the Commander—” 

“Of this battalion,” you interrupted sharply, “which we aren’t a part of, in case you forgot. Which means he’s not our boss.” 

“No, but our boss wants us to get him to cooperate which is never going to happen if you argue with him every opportunity you get!” he exclaimed, and you stared at him for a second in silence, grudgingly admitting the truth in his words.

“ _ Stang _ ,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I got so mad, it’s just so hot and miserable and he just makes me feel so  _ stupid— _ ”

“And you don’t like being told what to do,” Kade offered wryly, and you glared at him through your fingers before sighing resignedly. “I’m sorry, too.” He added quietly, giving you an apologetic smile.

“It’s fine,” you shrugged, tugging at your collar as a light breeze swept through the makeshift camp, cooling your skin and your temper. “Let’s just hope he brings Sev back in one piece.” 

The two of you sat there in silence for a moment, savoring the brief respite from the oppressive heat of the dusty planet. 

“Sinker was right,” Kade said after a beat, turning slightly to look at you.

“About what?” you asked, idly drawing a pattern in the sand coating the ferrocrete with the toe of your boot before it was swept away by the breeze.

“This is a lot more sitting around than I would have expected.” 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Just over an hour later, Wolffe stooped back beneath the awning, helmet tucked under one arm and Sev cradled against his chest with the other in a way that would have been almost endearing had you not been so impatient to get him back and begin editing the footage. 

“Well? Any security threats?” you asked tersely, carefully extracting Sev and scanning his body for any signs of damage. 

“No. Any scratches?” Wolffe countered, and you fought back the urge to scowl at him as you concluded your examination of the droid.

“No,” you grudgingly replied. 

There was a brief pause and he cleared his throat before reaching into one of the compartments on his belt and retrieving a data crystal.

“The Abregado reports, if you still want them,” he explained almost patiently, noting your confused expression.

“Oh,” you said stupidly, blinking in surprise at the lack of vitriol in his voice. “Yes, I do. Thank you.”

Seeming to realize you had no way of both holding Sev and accepting the crystal, he set it down carefully atop one of the crates, hesitating for a moment.

“See that gets back to me when you’re through with them,” he told you, his tone brusque once more, and you fought back the urge to roll your eyes.

“Of course,  _ sir _ ,” you snapped, offering a grim imitation of a smile as you passed Sev down to Kade and picked up the data crystal. 

He looked as though he was about to say something in return but seemed to think better of it, and ducked back out from beneath the tent without another word.

“See?” you exclaimed, turning to Kade as he looked up at you sleepily from where he slumped on his makeshift seat. “I was perfectly pleasant with him that time and he was  _ still  _ rude. There’s just no winning.”

“He wasn’t that rude,” Kade said, yawning and beginning to transmit Sev’s footage to the datapad so that you could begin editing. “And to be fair, you were a little snippy with him at first.”

“I bet you’d make a lot fewer excuses for him if he didn’t look like that,” you remarked sharply, your cheeks heating as Kade’s gaze snapped up to meet yours.

“Like what, exactly?” he questioned slyly, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as you groaned with annoyance.

“Ugh, you  _ know _ ,” you mumbled, flopping down beside him. “Handsome. In a mean, angry sort of way.”

Kade gave a short hum of agreement, but said nothing, and you found yourself filling the silence, a jumble of words spilling over your lips before you could contain them.

“I don’t think anyone that disagreeable should get to be good-looking, it hardly seems fair,” you continued, and Kade glanced over at you amusedly.

“Well, I had no idea you felt so strongly about him,” he commented, a teasing lilt to his voice, and you gave him a swat, immediately wishing you could take back the admission.

“I don’t—just, nevermind,” you spluttered, shaking your head as if to clear the thoughts away. “Forget all of that. It was the heat talking,” you added, jutting out your chin defiantly even as a cool breeze swirled around the two of you, undermining your excuse.

“Right,” Kade said drily, turning back to the datapad. “Whatever you say.” 

“Let’s just get this finished, alright?” you snapped, more annoyed with yourself than with him. 

“Yes, let’s,” he agreed, stifling another yawn. “Although I’m starting to feel like I should just record your interactions with him instead of trying to cobble something interesting together out of this mess. You have to admit it would make for a riveting daytime holodrama—”

“Shut up,” you muttered, your face hot with embarrassment. 

You told yourself you were relieved when he acquiesced, but despite your best efforts to silence it, there was a tiny part of your brain that thrummed with the hope that he would bring Wolffe up again. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

A large part of the following morning was spent holed up with your datapad, joints stiff after an uncomfortable night on a GAR-issued bedroll that offered little protection from the unforgiving ferrocrete. You hadn’t heard anything from Savah regarding the piece you and Kade had finally finished late into the evening, when the rest of the camp had fallen silent and only the brontides of groundcars rumbling throughout the city kept you company. With no further instructions and little incentive to leave the shade that your tent afforded you, you had instead partaken in a sad breakfast of ration bars and lukewarm instant caf before getting started on Wolffe’s Abregado reports as Kade tinkered with the holotransceiver beside you.

Oblivious to the world outside your shelter, you curled up against a stack of crates, teeth digging into your lower lip anxiously as your eyes flew over the screen. It was written in the unsentimental way all reports were, summing up the event in several tidy paragraphs. Despite the total of casualties being laid out plainly, you knew that no one reading the report could truly grasp the insurmountable loss that lay buried within those sparse, unembellished sentences, but that you now felt it much more acutely than you had before. Your heart clenched painfully in your chest as you recalled how bluntly you had asked Wolffe to recount the Separatist attack on his fleet, and you felt your face go hot with shame. 

“Kade,” you said quietly, passing him the datapad. “Read this.”

He did so without question, his dark brows drawing closer and closer together as he neared the end of the report before finally looking up at you with an indecipherable expression.

“What was Savah  _ thinking _ ?” you whispered, your voice catching on something jagged in your throat. “What were  _ we  _ thinking? Kriff, no wonder he hates me! Could I have been more insensitive?” 

“You were just doing your job,” Kade told you quietly, but you shook your head, feeling undeserving of any attempt at consolation.

“It doesn’t matter. It feels different now. Knowing them,” you said, the words stilted. “Seeing how they are with each other. They weren’t just a number on a report—” you broke off, the lump in your throat making it impossible to go on. 

“I know,” he replied hollowly, running a hand over his face. 

You stood abruptly, brushing the sand off your pants, and retrieved the data crystal from the datapad, clutching it safely in your palm.

“Where are you going?” Kade asked, scrambling up and fixing you with a concerned look.

“To return this to Wolffe,” you told him, holding up your hand for a moment, “and to apologize.” 

“Wait,” he said, hesitating uncertainly for a moment before continuing. “I don’t think he gave you those reports to make you feel sorry for him. And I don’t think he wants our pity, either.” 

“Are you saying I shouldn’t apologize?” you questioned, frowning slightly at him.

“I’m saying that if you do, make sure it’s not just to make yourself feel better,” Kade replied carefully, and you paused, feeling unaccountably defensive.

“Right,” you said after a moment, giving a small nod. “Well, at any rate, I promised I’d get this back to him so that’s what I’m going to do. If I’m not back within the hour you can assume I didn’t take your advice and it’s gone horribly wrong.” 

“I’ll start my chrono now,” he commented drily, and you let out a snort of laughter before exiting the tent. 

You spent a few minutes aimlessly wandering the camp, your eyes already stinging from the dust that rose up from the cracked streets with each step you took, searching for Wolffe’s signature markings and reinforced comlink antennae on each helmet before opting to ask one of the troopers. 

“Sorry to bother you,” you started, feeling unreasonably nervous, “but would you be able to point me in the direction of Commander Wolffe?” 

“Last I saw him, he headed to the Larty over that way,” the clone told you, pointing it out in the cluster of gunships settled just outside the camp’s perimeter. 

“Thank you,” you replied, offering him a grateful smile and making your way towards the ship he had indicated, mopping the sweat off your brow with the collar of your shirt as you approached. 

Wolffe stood inside the Larty, a flickering holo of General Plo in his outstretched hand, helmet tucked beneath his free arm. 

“Very good, General,” he said briskly, giving a single nod before the holo faded out and he turned to you with an expectant look. “Yes?” 

“I just wanted to return this to you,” you told him, offering the data crystal out to him, grimacing slightly as you realized it was somewhat damp from being clutched in your sweaty palm. 

He made a somewhat distasteful expression and plucked it from you with two fingers, before tucking it back into one of the compartments on his belt.

“Thank you,” he replied after a moment, sounding as though the words caused him a great deal of physical pain. 

You nodded, bitting down on your lower lip anxiously, debating over whether or not to go through with your plan. 

“Is there something else I can assist you with?” he prompted, and you shook your head fervently, turning to leave before changing your mind once more and pivoting towards him again. 

“Yes. Well, no. I just—there’s something I wanted to say,” you started, the words running together in one massive jumble, noting the way his posture stiffened, almost as though he was bracing himself for impact. “I’m sorry.” You finished lamely, watching as his brows drew together in what you could only describe as annoyance. 

“What for?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest and fixing you with a hard stare.

“For asking you about what happened. In the interview, I mean,” you clarified, suddenly finding it very difficult to meet his gaze.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said flatly, the answer automatic before giving a shrug that didn’t quite achieve indifference, a small note of derision in his voice as he continued. “You were just doing your job.”

“I was,” you replied, a little more defensively than you intended, the need to convince him of it propelling you forward. “I didn’t want to ask you about it, if that makes any difference. But if my boss asks me to do something, I have to do it. I’m sure you know how that goes.”

“I’m not a clanker,” Wolffe told you sharply, his eyes flashing with anger. “I don’t just mindlessly follow orders.”

“You think that’s what I do? Just mindlessly follow orders?” you challenged, mimicking the way his arms crossed over his chest before realizing what you had done and letting them fall to your sides lamely. 

The length of his pause was answer enough. 

“Fine,” you seethed, glaring at him. “For the record, I never called you a—a  _ clanker _ ,” you paused, the word unfamiliar and clumsy on your tongue. “But I’m starting to wish you were, at least they can be programmed to be nice!”

You felt a twinge of regret as soon as the insult left your mouth, but ignored it, turning on your heel and exiting the gunship before he could say another word. 

  
  


∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“It went horribly wrong,” you announced as you ducked back beneath the tent, flopping down on the crate beside Kade dramatically.

He glanced down at his chrono, sending you a dismayed look.

“But you weren’t even gone fifteen standard minutes!” he exclaimed. “How could it have possibly gone that wrong?” 

“I don’t know,” you snapped, throwing your hands up exasperatedly. “One second I was apologizing, the next he was calling me a mindless droid and then I told him I wished  _ he _ was a droid so he could be programmed to be a little nicer—”

“Oh, kriff’s sake,” Kade muttered, burying his face in his palm. “That’s not good.”

“No, it’s not,” you said quietly, deflating at the disappointment in his voice. “So I guess I need to apologize for my apology.”

“Not right now you don’t,” he told you hastily, shaking his head. “I need your help with something anyway.”

“With what?” you questioned, your brow furrowing slightly as he nodded in the direction of the transceiver. 

“Something better than an apology,” he replied, grinning at you. “I think I’ve figured out a way for us to watch the Cup.” 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You were fairly certain that Kade’s request for assistance was just a way to prevent you from getting into any further altercations with Wolffe, but you played along, pretending to help as he tinkered with the holotransceiver. It was nearly dusk by the time he succeeded in feeding the HNE broadcast through Sev’s playback feature, the image surprisingly clear above his domed head with the exception of an occasional scanline. As the pre-match festivities commenced, the troopers gathered around the crate you had perched Sev atop of, their excitement thrumming through the air in a way that rivaled even the crowds in Cor-U’s stadium back home. 

For the second time that day, you scanned through the now helmetless troopers, hoping to make out Wolffe’s face amongst theirs but caught no sight of him. Frowning, you turned to Boost and Sinker, who sat on crates just behind you and Kade.

“Have you seen the Commander around?” you asked, and Sinker nodded. 

“He was in the tent that way,” he replied, gesturing at one on the outskirts of the camp. “Said he had to finish some reports.”

“I’ll go let him know it’s starting,” you said, getting to your feet and ignoring Kade’s worried glance. “I’d hate for him to miss even a second of Bylluran getting clobbered.” 

“In your dreams,” Sinker retorted cheerfully, and you grinned at him before weaving your way through the crowd to the tent he had pointed out to you. 

Wolffe was hunched over a datapad, his brows furrowed in concentration, but he looked up as you approached, mouth quickly twisting into a scowl.

“What is it?” he asked brusquely, glancing back down before giving you a chance to answer and jabbing at the screen with unnecessary force. 

“I know you said you don’t have time for bolo-ball, but in the off chance you were finished with your reports, I just wanted to let you know that the match is about to start,” you told him, mustering as friendly of a voice as you could. 

“I don’t suppose either of you thought to ask whether or not it was safe to use the holotransceiver that way,” he groused, setting down his datapad. “The Seps have ways of intercepting those transmissions. That’s why I scanned all your footage last night, to make sure there was nothing that would be dangerous for them to get their hands on.”

“Do you think the Seps would have much of a use for intel on which bolo-ball team your battalion is pulling for?” you questioned, unable to stop a small smile from tugging at your lips.

He stared at you for a moment, clearly annoyed that he couldn’t think of any threat it would pose. 

“Come on,” you said cajolingly. “Do you want to miss the face Sinker makes when he realizes he’s going to have to get a tattoo of our mascot?” 

His eyes narrowed as he folded his arms over his armored chest, giving you a calculating look. 

“How do you know which team I’m pulling for?” he questioned suspiciously, and you assembled your face into one of utmost seriousness.

“I’m a Separatist spy. My only mission was to find out whether you support Cor-U or Bylluran,” you replied, completely straight-faced. “And now that you’ve confirmed who it is, I need to deliver that intel back to the higher-ups.”

He said nothing, his scowl deepening.

“Sorry, not funny,” you started, cutting yourself short as he interjected.

“So you’re a spy for the Seps. No wonder you wished I was a droid,” he remarked wryly, the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes, and you were so taken aback by his attempt at levity that you let out a startled laugh in response.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” you told him, sobering. “I’m sorry. Again. Hopefully, this is the last time I have to apologize to you for some stupid comment, but I can’t promise anything.” 

“I wouldn’t believe you even if you did,” he said drily, but there was no malice in his words and you felt the tension between your shoulder blades ease away slightly. “I am curious to know how you found out I support Cor-U,” he added, raising an eyebrow slightly, and you grinned.

“Sinker blew your cover,” you replied, biting back a laugh at the insult he muttered under his breath. 

You could hear the muffled opening notes of Cor-U’s anthem beginning to play in the background, and gave Wolffe a hopeful look. He hesitated for a moment then gave a grumble of assent, reaching for his helmet and tucking it beneath his arm before following you out of the tent. You were tempted to ask him to join you but thought it best not to push your luck, deciding to be content with the tentative peace you had made with him as he settled onto an empty seat across from the crate you were sharing with Kade. 

By the end of the match, Bylluran was training Cor-U by two points and despite Sinker’s desperate urging from behind you, the referees didn’t tack on any additional time to give them a chance to even the score. Letting out a series of colorful curses, Sinker buried his face in his hands as Boost began asking the troopers in the immediate vicinity if any of them had a razor while Kade gave him a consoling pat on the vambrace. Grinning, you turned towards where Wolffe was sitting, half expecting him to already be watching the dramatics playing out behind you.

You were unprepared for the twinge of disappointment you felt when his gaze didn’t meet yours in return. 


	4. chapter four

_sharp & glorious thorn_ **;** chapter four

The nagging feeling of disappointment was still there when you awoke the following morning, and the weight of it settled in your chest more heavily than you would have expected. Sifting through your recollections of the evening, you felt a twinge of embarrassment as you realized the reason behind your distress was that you had wanted Wolffe to see how well you were getting on with his men, wanted him to know that you saw them as more than fodder to both protect and now entertain the Republic. But you were quickly coming to the understanding that how you viewed him and his men was probably of no importance to him at all and you desperately wished you could feel just as indifferent towards him.

Stirring your instant caf rather more furiously than was necessary, you glowered at the datapad as it let out an ominous chime and snatched it up off the ground angrily. Scanning over Savah’s brief message, you let out a string of curses before thrusting it over to Kade, who accepted it gingerly, an expression of mild alarm on his weary features at your vitriol. 

“Everything alright?” he asked tentatively, and you scowled in a way that you were certain would have given Wolffe a run for his credits before shaking away the traitorous thought of him.

“No,” you answered shortly, taking an aggressive sip of watery caf. 

“I thought you’d be in a good mood after your team took the win last night,” Kade said, his tone light but his dark brows furrowed as he glanced down at the screen.

“Yeah, well, I wish I could have been back home celebrating with them,” you muttered sourly, knowing you sounded childish but too irritable to care. “Not stuck on this dirtball of a planet with nothing to do except wait for Savah to assign us another impossible task.”

“It could be worse,” he replied almost sternly, and you glared at him before taking another swig. “I’d rather be bored than getting blasted at. And besides, Savah seemed happy enough with our first piece, maybe she’ll ease up a bit.”

“You interpreted her calling it  _ acceptable  _ as being happy with it?” you asked, fixing him with a skeptical stare. 

“High praise, coming from her,” he told you drily, shrugging in a supremely unconcerned way. “Anyways, I’m to go find Sinker and see if he knows how much longer we’re stuck here. Want to come along?”

“No, thanks,” you shook your head, drawing your knees up to your chest and peering into the murky depths of your thermos. 

“Okay,” Kade shrugged, dipping out from beneath the shelter and loping off, leaving clouds of infernal red dust in his wake. 

Retreating further in on yourself, you slowly sipped your tepid beverage, wondering how the Republic had found a way to make even the caf bland. Unable to stomach the thought of choking down another chalky rations bar, you set your now empty thermos down and scanned through the datapad, wishing you had thought to pack a data crystal with some holobooks on it to pass the time. After sending a brief update to your father, you shut it off and put it aside, looking up expectantly as Kade re-entered the tent. 

“Well?” you asked impatiently, getting to your feet. “Are we getting off this planet anytime soon?” 

Kade nodded, looking relieved.

“Apparently the Sep fleet they were worried about has moved on to the Gaulus sector, presumably to bring reinforcements to Ryloth,” he said. “So it looks like they have bigger burra fish to fry than worrying about the Doonium mines. We’re moving out in a couple of hours.”

“Good,” you replied vehemently, already turning to your pack and beginning to re-organize it. “I can’t wait to get back to the ship so I can rinse all this kriffing dust off. I feel disgusting.” 

Kade let out a hum of agreement, joining you in packing up the few belongings that had scattered about the floor of the structure before sinking down onto a crate, a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

“What?” you questioned suspiciously, sitting down opposite him.

“It may cheer you up to know that Boost finally decided where he wants Sinker to get that tattoo,” he began, and you perked up slightly. 

“I thought it was going on the side of his head?” you said, and he grinned, shaking his head.

“Boost very charitably elected to let him keep his hair. Apparently Sinker is very attached to it,” he told you.

“If my hair looked that good, I’d be attached to it, too,” you joked, drawing a laugh from him. “So where’s the tattoo going?” 

“His chest,” Kade replied, and you let out a sympathetic groan. 

“Bet he’s thrilled,” you remarked drily.

“He said he’s just glad he doesn’t have to get it on his face,” he said with a grin, and you let out a distracted laugh even as your thoughts turned to Wolffe, wondering if he would have laughed aloud at the outcome of the bet, too, or simply given one of his faintly entertained half-smiles. 

“Boost is nicer than I am,” you replied, attempting to drive the intrusive thought away. “I would have made him get it on his forehead for all the trash he was talking about our team.”

“I’ll remember that,” came Sinker’s voice from behind you, and you whipped around to see him ducking beneath the tent-covering. 

“Honestly, I think you could pull off a forehead tattoo,” Kade supplied, sounding uncharacteristically shy, and you swiveled back toward him with one eyebrow raised.

“I’ll remember that, too,” Sinker told him, the words warmly amused even through the slight muffle of his helmet.

There was a very long pause that you spent unsuccessfully trying to bite back a grin at the pleased flush spreading over Kade’s cheeks, before it was interrupted by the low hum of approaching shuttles. 

“That’s odd,” Sinker muttered, helmet tilted up the skies overhead as he jabbed at a button on his vambrace. “Those shuttles aren’t due back til evening—” 

“Sinker, is everything okay?” Kade asked worriedly, standing up and taking a step toward him as Sinker’s visor snapped back towards the two of you.

“There are clankers aboard those shuttles!” Sinker announced, alarm rising in his voice. “Get to one of those buildings and take cover, quick!”

Scrambling to your feet, you snatched Sev up off the ground and sprinted towards the cluster of abandoned shops lining the cracked ferrocrete road, watching as Kade reached the first one and pushed at the boarded-up door to no avail. Unable to stop yourself, you whirled around to watch as the first in a succession of incoming shuttles settled into the dirt, doors sliding open to reveal rows of stun-cuffed miners flanked by droids. Forcing the workers onto the front lines, the droids advanced towards the clone troopers as they took up defensive positions, the air crackling with the sound of blasterfire. 

“Kade, hurry up!” you cried, wrenching your eyes back towards him, fear rising in your chest as he shoved at the entry again. 

“Move!” a trooper shouted, scattering the two of you as he squeezed off a couple of rounds at the door, damaging it enough that Kade was able to create a small opening by kicking through the layers of wood and transparisteel. 

Following Kade through it, you hissed in pain as you caught on a jagged edge, slicing through your tunic to your skin, and Sev clattered to the dusty floor as you clutched at the wound on your upper arm. Blood spilled over your fingers, hot and slippery as the metallic scent of it filled your nose, and you bit down on your lip to keep from crying out. Scooping Sev up, Kade pulled you both down against the wall beneath the sealed windows, and you exchanged a panic-stricken look before leaning forward slightly to peer out the shattered remains of the door. 

“They’re using them as shields,” Kade whispered in horror, watching as the clones struggled to gain a position that would allow them to return the droid’s blasterfire without catching Soccorans in the middle of it. 

Your throat seized as you watched one of them collapse before the row of droids, fighting back a gasping sob as they continued to march over her crumpled form, trampling her pale yellow hair into the unforgiving red dirt. The buildings shook with the staccato rhythm of their onslaught, more and more droids joining their ranks from the newly arrived shuttles. They were the standard B1 droids you had seen on HNE so many times before, stiff and unyielding in their movements, usually easily dispatched by a well-placed shot, which was nearly impossible for the clones to get without endangering the workers acting as human barriers. 

“We need to get this,” Kade said vehemently, his voice choked as he reached for Sev and activated him, hushing the tiny droid as he began to greet the two of you. “Not a word, okay buddy? You have to be really quiet, understand?” 

Sev tilted himself up and down in his best approximation of a nod before hovering over to the ragged opening in the door and beginning to record. You knew already that there was little chance the footage would ever amount to anything more than an archived data crystal despite how useful it could have been in illustrating the heartlessness of the Separatists. The emotional impact of it was rendered null by the sheer indifference shown towards inhabitants of the Outer Rim by the citizens of the Core Worlds, who you were certain would mourn the deaths of Doonium miners about as long as they would the deaths of clones. With a twinge of guilt, you realized that were it not for your current position, you would have been guilty of the same detachment.

“Are you okay?” Kade asked softly, his gaze flitting down to your blood-soaked sleeve, and you gave him a tight nod, gripping your upper arm. 

“I don’t suppose you remember any of that medical training you read up on?” you replied weakly, and he shook his head woefully.

“Nothing about cuts,” he said with an apologetic grimace, reaching for you. “Can I take a look?”

You nodded, pulling away the shredded remnants of your sleeve so that he could assess the damage, wincing at his sharp intake of breath.

“That bad?” you whispered worriedly, afraid to look down at it. 

“It’s pretty deep but it’ll be fine once you get it treated,” he told you, trying to sound reassuring despite his ashen expression. “Might leave a scar though.”

“That’ll make for a great story,” you muttered. “‘Where’d you get that scar?’ ‘Cut myself on a door’. Very impressive.”

“Hey, if we make it out of here, you can tell whatever story you like,” Kade said, and your heart plummeted, his attempt to console you achieving the opposite effect. 

For whatever reason, it hadn’t really occurred to you until he said it that you might not make it off Soccoro and that your death, along with so many others, could just be a punctuation mark in one of the countless casualty reports filed by the dutiful soldiers of the GAR. Pulling your mind away from the thought, you noticed the sound of blasterfire had abated slightly and crept towards the entryway. Peering through the gap in the door, your heart wrenched at the sight of both clones and civilians laying motionless in the streets, shrouded in the red dirt that had settled as the droids drove the remaining troopers further back. You searched in vain for a set of familiar helmet markings amongst the dead, but found nothing. Turning back to Kade, you swallowed your fears and offered the one distraction you could.

“Well, we’ve got some time to think of one now.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The minutes stretched by, each seeming to go on longer than the last, until the blasterfire receded into a silence that was somehow just as alarming. When the wait grew unbearable, you slowly rose to your feet, clutching at your injured arm, and looked out through the jagged opening in the entrance, relief sweeping through you as you spotted Wolffe making his way through the tangle of bodies, followed closely by Sinker. They both still had their blasters out, helmets darting quickly from side to side as they scanned the deserted streets before confirming they were clear, the remainder of the troopers joining the search for survivors amongst the rubble. 

Powering Sev down and tucking him under your good arm, you ducked through the remnants of the door with Kade at your heels, nearly dropping Sev in alarm as Wolffe whirled towards you with his blaster raised. The tension in his shoulders eased fractionally as he realized only one in your company was a droid, and not a threatening one at that, re-holstering his blaster before turning back to a clone with a medic insignia on his pauldron. Bile rose in your throat as you approached the mass of bodies, the weak moans of the dying just audible over the ringing in your ears and you drew a shuddering breath to try to regain control over yourself. 

“You need a medic,” Wolffe said flatly as you reached him, his helmet tilting down in the direction of your wounded arm. 

“No,” you replied forcefully, shaking your head. “I can wait. There are other people who are hurt worse than me.”

He didn’t bother disagreeing with you, simply giving a curt nod in response before barking out an order for all the injured clones to be loaded into the Larties.

“What happened?” you asked quietly, unable to stop the words tumbling out as you tried very hard to not think about the fact that you were standing in a mass grave. 

“Our intel was wrong,” Wolffe told you shortly. “They weren’t planning a strike on the mines, they had already taken control of them.”

“What do we do now?” you questioned, realizing a moment too late that you had accidentally grouped yourself in with the clones, which felt like an intrusion. 

Wolffe didn’t seem to notice, looking down at his vambrace and then up at the sky before letting out a short sigh of frustration.

“I can’t get a signal through to the General to request cover,” he announced to Sinker, your question already forgotten. “But with or without it, we have to go.” 

“What about them? We’re just going to leave them here like this?” you interjected, gesturing at the bodies of clones and Soccorans that surrounded the four of you. 

“There’s nothing more we can do for them,” Wolffe told you stiffly. “But some of these men are going to die down here with them if we don’t get them back to the ship. Now come on, before more reinforcements arrive.”

You hesitated for a moment, your throat tight as you pushed down the tears threatening to well up, feeling unentitled to them. Kade touched your shoulder lightly, urging you forward, and you joined the procession of battle-weary clones making their way to the gunships. Looking down so as to avoid accidentally disturbing the bodies of the dead, you let out a low whimper when you came across the lifeless form of a trooper you recognized from the previous evening. His helmet had come off and rolled away to the side, his dark, curly hair coated in grime, a small trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth. He had introduced himself as Combs, a moniker he had earned thanks to his penchant for carrying one around with him at all times, and you could still hear him teasing Sinker about how he was going to usurp him as the trooper with the prettiest hair in the 104th. 

“I was just sitting next to him last night,” you said to no one in particular, your voice hollow with shock. “Please, we can’t just leave him here—”

Wolffe came to a sudden halt next to you, and you braced yourself for the rebuke you were certain was about to come crackling through his helmet before he knelt down and reached into one of the compartments on the fallen trooper’s belt, removing the comb from it and handing it to you as he straightened up. 

“Hold onto that and see that it makes its way to Charge when he’s back on his feet,” he told you gruffly, his voice softening almost imperceptibly as he continued. “They were close.”

You nodded, clutching the comb so closely that its teeth dug into you, leaving painful indentations in your skin but you just gripped it tighter, wanting to inscribe your palm with the epitaph he would never get. As you boarded the Lartie, you sank down onto an upturned crate, unfurling your hand and bowing your head as a sob threatened to wrench itself from your chest, wondering how his whole life could have been reduced to a single object in a matter of moments. As the gunship left the surface of Soccoro, you felt the tears begin to spill down your cheeks, and hastily brushed them away as you felt Wolffe’s gaze shift in your direction. Guilt coursed through you to the point of nauseousness as you realized how self-indulgent you must have seemed to him, openly weeping while the men that had truly known Combs could only acknowledge his death in private. You knew that for Wolffe, he was yet another trooper amongst hundreds that he would never be able to properly mourn the loss of. 

The time to grieve, like so many other things you had taken for granted, was a luxury that the clones could not afford.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

All you wanted to do upon returning to the ship was wash away the layer of grime Soccoro had left on you, hating the way it seemed to have settled beneath your skin, but instead, you ended up getting ushered to the medbay with Kade in tow. He had taken Sev under his arm to relieve you of his weight and had offered to hold onto the comb, too, but you had just clutched it closer in response, feeling that handing it off was somehow a betrayal of both Combs and Wolffe. You were certain that Wolffe had only entrusted you with the task to placate your wishes to commemorate the fallen soldiers, but you intended to see it through anyway. Kade seemed to understand and didn’t question how fiercely you refused, giving you a small squeeze of the shoulder before sinking down beside you in the corner of the ship’s medical facility. 

After determining that your injury was not life-threatening, one of the 2-1B droids assisting the medics administered an analgesic and instructed you to wait until someone could patch your arm up. You watched in silence as the clones in the worst condition were stabilized before being transferred to ships that would deliver to them to Kaliida Shoals, a Republic medical station in the nearby Ryndellia system. Those whose wounds could be treated aboard the  _ Triumphant  _ would remain in the medbay until they were healed enough to return to action, likely before their bandages had even come off. The doors slid open with a low hiss and you straightened up slightly as Wolffe strode in, his helmet tucked beneath his arm and a dusty datapad dangling from his free hand. His jaw clenched as he scanned the room, his brows drawn tight as his eyes landed on you and Kade, and he thrust the datapad at you unceremoniously as soon as he was within arm’s reach. 

“One of the troopers recovered this from the camp before we left. Thought you might need it,” he said shortly, and Kade took it with a grateful bow of the head that you did your best to mimic. 

Hesitating for a moment, he looked as though he was about to say something before Kade shifted beside you, getting to his feet with both Sev and the datapad cradled against his chest. 

“I should go charge this, see if there’s anything from Savah,” he announced awkwardly, and you nodded blankly. “I’ll be back soon.”

Wolffe watched him go warily before swiveling back to you, nodding at your arm. 

“Have you gotten that looked at yet?” he asked gruffly, and you glanced down at it, startled to see how painful it looked given you could no longer feel it.

“One of the medical droids gave me something for it,” you told him, hating the way your voice cracked with the evidence of the tears you had tried so hard to keep from him. “I’ll get it cleaned up in a bit.”

He gave a single nod of approval, turning to go, and you had a sudden urge to grab his wrist and pull him back, a single word scraping its way out of your throat. 

“Wait—” you whispered, and he stilled, glancing back over his shoulder at you. “How do you do it? How do you just keep going after something like that?” 

“I have to,” he answered simply, before letting out a short, resigned sigh at the sight of the tears rolling down your cheeks once more. 

“I’m sorry,” you gasped out, your ribs creaking with the effort of containing the sobs clawing at your insides. “I don’t have any right to be crying, I know–”

He was visibly uncomfortable, and you realized with a guilty twinge that you had just put him in a position to have to comfort you when it should have been the other way around, but he made no attempt to leave and so you continued.

“Before Kade and I were sent here, our supervisor told us to make sure we didn’t get too close to anyone,” you started again, uncertain of why you were telling him this. “She said it would interfere with our ability to do our jobs and I told her it wouldn’t be a problem—”

“Maybe you can choose not to get close to anyone here, but that’s not something any of us get a say in,” he interjected, his eyes flashing with anger, and you immediately regretted the admission. “The men on this ship are all I have. I don’t get the luxury of picking safer bets to befriend.”

“I’m sorry,” you said quickly, feeling the conversation veering into a territory mired in misunderstandings, one you had found yourself in all too often with him. “What I meant was, I was wrong. It is a problem. I didn’t even know Combs and now I can’t stop thinking about how now I never will, but at the same time, I’m terrified to try to get to know anyone because I don't think I can handle losing them—”

“It never gets any easier, losing men,” Wolffe told you haltingly before going on, his face hardening. “But to let the fear of losing them prevent you from getting to know them would be cowardly. And disrespectful to their sacrifice.”

“I don’t want it to get easier,” you replied quietly, your voice trembling but determined. “They all deserve more than to be easily forgotten, and I’ll do my best to make sure none of them are.”

“How?” he asked after a moment, his brows furrowed slightly in confusion, and you drew in a shaky breath, looking around the medbay before returning your gaze to him.

“I have an idea for how to honor the men you lost today. To make sure everyone with access to HNE learns their names,” you answered, biting down on your lip nervously at his unreadable expression before hastily continuing, “as long as you’re alright with it, of course.” 

“I’ll have to review it before I can answer that,” he said, and you nodded fervently.

“Of course,” you repeated, hesitating for a moment before adding a respectful ‘ _ Sir _ ’ for good measure, hoping it would act as a balm for some of your past discourtesies. 

He shook his head slightly, letting out a short sigh that didn’t sound quite as exasperated as you were sure he meant it to. 

“You know you don’t have to call me that, right?” he asked, one corner of his mouth lifting up in a tired semblance of a smile. 

“Okay,” you replied, giving him a tiny grin in return, “Commander.”

He rolled his eyes, but there was a glint of humor in them when they returned to you, a warm shade of gold even beneath the harsh illumi-strip lighting. 

“There’s a medical droid free. I want you to get that taken care of,” he said, expression serious once more as he pointed at the cut on your arm before adding, “that’s an order.”

You nodded, slowly getting to your feet, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

“What, no argument? You haven't sustained a head injury, have you?” he questioned, and you could have sworn you saw a flash of relief in his eyes when you glared at him before continuing with a trace of amusement, “because if I had said that to you even as recently as yesterday, I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have gone along with it—”

“No head injury,” you grumbled, wincing as the cut began to sting once more. “And normally, I would argue you with, but these painkillers are wearing off so it’ll have to wait until later.”

“I look forward to it,” he said drily, and you gave a snort of laughter as you made your way to one of the cots.

As soon as you were seated, arm held out for inspection by the 2-1B, he departed the medbay with a small nod, leaving you to replay his words over and over again as the droid set to closing up your wound.

_ I look forward to it.  _

You hoped that in some small way, he had truly meant it.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘


	5. chapter five

_sharp & glorious thorn_ **;** chapter five

The 2-1B droid finished treating your wound before Kade had returned, and so you made for the barracks, impatience to begin on your next piece propelling you forward as the weariness that had settled into your bones lessened with each step. It seemed the troopers had no intention of resting either, and the corridors were bustling with activity as you threaded your way back to the shared quarters to where Kade sat his bunk, mulling over something on the datapad with a furrowed brow. You made to sink down beside him before realizing that you were still clad in the same dusty, blood-stained clothes you had been wearing for the last two days and grimaced, crouching down beside him on the floor instead. 

“Sorry,” Kade muttered, pulling his eyes away from the screen and glancing over at you. “I got a little distracted. How’s the arm?”

You were tempted to tell him that if he had returned in a timely fashion, he probably would have cut your first civil conversation with Wolffe short, but you stopped yourself, feeling oddly protective of the exchange. 

“It’s fine,” you assured him, giving him a half-smile. “And so is the arm. Anything from Savah?” 

“Yes,” he replied darkly, passing you the datapad. “And from your dad as well. I didn’t read any of them but judging from how many messages he sent, he’s pretty worried about you.”

Sighing, you scanned through them quickly, your stomach twisting guiltily at the way the words became increasingly alarmed with each new communication before the feeling was replaced by an unbidden annoyance when you realized there was no mention of anyone but you in any of them. Though a small part of you knew it was slightly unfair to expect him to care as much about anyone else in your company, you made no attempt to quell your irritation. Rather than acting as a balm to your frayed nerves, his worry for you burrowed beneath your skin and lodged itself there like an unwanted guest. You felt undeserving of his fretting when there were men in the medbay teetering at the edge of life, and wished you could bestow his concern upon them instead. 

Dashing off a quick note to let him know that both you  _ and  _ Kade were fine, you turned to the messages from Savah which contained only the briefest of condolences for your injury before requesting to be commed at once. 

“Do you think we have time to at least clean up, or should we just get this over with now?” you asked Kade drily, and he shrugged, looking down at his own dirty and disheveled clothes as though he had just realized he was still wearing them. 

“Let’s just get it over with,” he replied wearily, and you pulled a face before retrieving the holoprojector from deep within your pocket and holding it gingerly in your palm, not bothering to wipe away your unenthusiastic expression.

“It’s good to see the two of you alive and well after what happened on Soccoro,” Savah said, though her voice was as devoid of warmth as ever, casting a critical eye over your disastrous appearance. “I just read the report. How  _ awful _ .”

“It was,” you told her quietly, and Kade nodded in agreement. 

“Have you made any headway with Commander Wolffe? I’d like to get his version of events for this next piece. Surely he has more to say on the matter than what was in his report,” Savah questioned, arching a thin brow at you, and you hesitated for a moment, your heart already plummeting at the thought of unsettling the very tenuous amity between the two of you. 

“Commander Wolffe is about to embark on a mission to re-take the Doonium mines from the Seps,” Kade cut in, and you glanced over at him in surprise. “Sink— _ Sergeant _ Sinker told me,” he added, looking slightly flustered before continuing on, “so it’s unlikely we’ll have the opportunity to speak with him until he returns.”

“Well, do you have any idea when that might be? We’re on a tight schedule,” Savah said impatiently, and you fought back the urge to exchange an exasperated look with Kade.

“No, I’m afraid I don’t,” Kade replied shortly, and you couldn’t help but notice the concern that corroded his words the same way it gnawed at your insides.

“In the meantime,” you interjected, trying to distract yourself from the unease growing in your belly, “I have an idea for a piece I’d like to run by you.”

“Go on,” Savah sighed, and you resisted the urge to wilt beneath her disinterested stare.

“I’d like to commemorate the men that were lost on Soccoro somehow,” you started, your free hand reaching for the comb buried inside one of your pockets almost instinctively before withdrawing it. “I was thinking that we could talk to who they were closest with, record any memories of them they’d like to share—”

“A tribute,” Savah interrupted, her expression inscrutable, and you nodded. “What makes you so certain these clones will want to share those memories with you? You certainly haven’t had much success in that regard when it comes to Commander Wolffe.”

“Well,” you said, sidestepping her remark, “they may be more comfortable speaking about each other than about themselves and I think they’d welcome an opportunity to make sure that their friends aren’t forgotten as soon as there’s a new story on HNE.” 

“You may proceed,” she replied curtly, “but I want you to get a word with Commander Wolffe as soon as he returns.” 

“The very minute,” you assured her with utmost sincerity, while telling yourself that you would wait until he had gotten a reasonable amount of sleep, consumed a hot meal, and had at least one cup of caf before even beginning to breach the topic. 

“Very well. One last thing–did you happen to record any of the Separatist attack?” Savah asked, a hopeful note in her voice. 

“We did,” you said, already regretting it as the words slipped out before hastily adding, “but I haven’t had a chance to review it so I’m not sure any of it is usable.” 

“Any footage of them using the Soccorans as shields would be of particular interest,” she told you, and you felt your brows scrunch together worriedly. “It would certainly help to illustrate the vile tactics the Separatists are comfortable employing, wouldn’t you agree?” 

“Right,” you nodded, trying to smooth the concern out of your expression. “I’ll see what we’ve got and send it along now.” 

Savah gave a clipped nod in response before her holo cut out, and you slipped the device back into your pocket before beginning to transmit Sev’s memory bank to the datapad. 

“What are you doing?” Kade asked as you began to splice the footage.

“Making sure she can’t use their deaths for shock value,” you muttered, glancing back at him for a moment before returning to your task. “They all deserve better than that.” 

He made a low hum of agreement as you sent the edited footage off to Coruscant before powering down the datapad and swiveling around to look at him in earnest. 

“When did Sinker tell you all that about the mission?” you questioned, watching as Kade flushed slightly. 

“When he came to check on me while you were in the medbay,” he replied, trying his best to sound nonchalant and failing dismally. “Didn’t Wolffe tell you?”

“No, he didn’t say anything about it,” you answered, getting to your feet with a frown.

“He probably didn’t want to worry you,” Kade said, and you instinctively folded your arms across your chest defensively. 

“Why would he care if I was worried or not?” you told him, attempting to quash the part of you that desperately wanted Kade to be right. “And I’m not, by the way.”

“Yes, you are,” he replied simply, and you let out a short sigh of frustration, knowing there was no point in trying to lie to him.

“Well, it’s not like I’m the only one, you’re worried about Sinker,” you pointed out, and he stood up, his expression full of concern.

“Yeah,” he told you quietly. “I am.”

Something about the unguarded way he had said it unsettled you, and the two of you exchanged a look that conveyed all the fears that you would never speak aloud, as if doing so would will them into existence.

“Let’s get cleaned up,” you offered after a moment, shaking your head as if to clear the thoughts away. “And then we can start on this piece so it will be ready for Wolffe to review when they get back. Okay?” 

Kade nodded, looking relieved for the distraction, and you realized with a spark of hopefulness that Wolffe had done the same for you just hours before when he had entrusted you with the comb. 

Maybe he did care a little bit after all.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

As it turned out, there were only a handful of men still aboard the  _ Triumphant  _ that you could speak to, as many of them had already departed the ship with Wolffe and General Plo, and several more had been transferred to Kaliida Shoals for a stint in the bacta tanks, but the few that remained had no shortage of memories to share. Though wary at first, they seemed to slump with relief when they realized you weren’t asking them to talk about themselves, a stark contrast to the politicians and entertainers whose false modesty did little to conceal their eagerness to discuss their accomplishments. While their own exploits were shrugged away uncomfortably, the men recounted tales of the bravery of their fallen brothers with ease and your heart wrenched as you realized that for many of them, the only time they would ever be spoken about like this was in death. 

Kade seemed to understand the sanctity of the task you had been entrusted with by Wolffe, and made no attempt to tag along when you told him you were going to speak to Charge in the medbay, instead electing to begin editing the footage together in the barracks. He was laying on his uninjured side when you found him, a bandage wrapped around his shoulder where a spray of shrapnel had lodged itself between his pauldron and backplate, but made an attempt to sit up as you approached, letting out a sharp hiss of pain. 

“Please, don’t get up,” you told him hurriedly, raising a hand to still him, and he reluctantly sank back down, shooting his shoulder a look of annoyance as if it had done something to personally offend him before turning back to you. “I have something for you.” 

Reaching into your pocket, you pulled the comb out and held it out to him, watching as he carefully took it, staring down at it with an unreadable expression. 

“How did you know—” he asked hoarsely, breaking off with an uncertain look. 

“Commander Wolffe told me the two of you were close,” you replied as you knelt down beside the cot, sparing him from finishing the question, and he nodded, drawing the comb into his chest. 

“He’s—he  _ was  _ my best friend,” Charge confirmed quietly, and you tried to swallow away the rawness in your throat, reaching out to him slowly, as if he were a wild animal that you were afraid would bolt. 

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, tentatively placing your hand on his forearm.

He nodded again, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath that you were certain was a harbinger of the tears to come, but none did. 

“Some of the boys said you two were making a Holovid about the men we lost on that kriffing dirtball of a planet,” he said gruffly, not quite managing to disguise the tremors in his voice.

“We are. If you have any memories of Combs you’d like to share for it…” you trailed off, watching as he hesitated for a moment. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I got a lot of those,” he said finally, and you gave his arm a small squeeze before drawing your hand back. 

“I’d love to hear them tomorrow morning but for now, I’m going to leave you to get some rest,” you replied, getting to your feet. 

As he nodded, a single tear slipped from the corner of his eye, and you quickly turned away, pretending not to have seen it as you exited the medbay. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

As the following morning came and went with no word on when Wolffe might return, you found yourself growing worryingly close to breaking your unspoken agreement with Kade to not speculate over the reasons for his absence. The two of you were holed up in the barracks, datapad balanced on Kade’s lap as he made minor adjustments to the footage, your fingers drumming a restless rhythm against your knees. He shot you a dirty look and you stilled abruptly, letting out an impatient huff of breath. 

“I need to stretch my legs,” you muttered, crawling out from beneath the bunk, and setting off before you could slip up and voice what was making you so anxious. 

You wandered aimlessly for a few minutes, pausing as you arrived at the medbay and considering whether or not to check in on Charge despite having seen him only a few hours earlier. As you deliberated, there was a bustle of activity up ahead, and you felt your heart give a sudden leap in your chest as General Plo rounded the corner, followed closely by Wolffe. His armor was blackened with soot, but to your relief, that seemed to be the only mark the battle had left on him. He gave you a quizzical look, coming to a stop in the middle of the corridor beside the General, and you hastily moved to the side, offering an embarrassed apology. 

“You haven’t gone and gotten yourself hurt again, have you?” Wolffe asked, frowning at you, and you shook your head fervently. 

“No. I was just—I was going to check on Charge,” you replied somewhat lamely, and he nodded, the line between his brows easing slightly. 

“We were just about to do the same, if you would like to accompany us,” General Plo offered, his muffled voice weary but warm. 

“No, that’s okay. I don’t want to intrude,” you told him, sending him a grateful look. “Thank you though.” Turning to Wolffe, you added, “That footage should be ready for you to review shortly.”

“I have to file a few reports after checking on them—” he started, nodding towards the medbay.

“Right, of course. No rush. Whenever you have time,” you interrupted, your cheeks heating as he hesitated for a moment before continuing from where you had cut him off.

“—but after that, I should be able to take a look,” he finished. 

“Great!” you said, far too enthusiastically, and immediately wished that someone would come and shove you out of the airlock before you further embarrassed yourself. 

“Great,” he echoed, one corner of his mouth twitching up at your obviously flustered state.

There was a brief pause and the General let out something that sounded like a cough from beneath his Antiox mask before you spoke again.

“Well, I don’t want to hold you up,” you told him, your voice still unnaturally high pitched as you made to move past him, eager to return to the barracks and wallow in your humiliation. 

Failing to notice the way his elbow jutted out from his side to allow his helmet to rest beneath his arm, you promptly crashed into it and let out a very undignified ‘ _ oof _ ’ as you stumbled forward. Your hands came up as if to catch yourself, but rather than meeting the floor, you found them pressed against sooty plastoid armor as he quickly took a step back to prevent you from falling, and you stared at his chest in confusion for a moment before pulling away, smudges of ash on your palms. He was looking down at you with a mixture of worry and amusement, an expression that seemed to be getting a lot of use where you were concerned.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, feeling your cheeks grow impossibly hotter, almost painfully aware of the infinitesimal gap between the two of you.

“Barracks are back that way,” he told you, and you nodded, your mouth suddenly very dry.

“Right,” you replied, hearing your breath hitching on the word. “Right, of course. Thank you.” 

“Do you need an escort back?” he asked, one corner of his mouth lifting up, but you were already shaking your head. 

“No, I think I’ve got it,” you said, not catching the levity in his tone until you had already responded, and his half-smile faded as he gave you a tight-lipped nod, brushing past you and disappearing into the medbay.

_ Karking idiot _ , you scolded yourself as you turned and started off towards the barracks,  _ why didn’t you say yes? _

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. chapter six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi thank you all so much for your support of this fic so far, i really appreciate it! please come say hi on tumblr, i am @ beskars :)

_sharp & glorious thorn_ **;** chapter six

You berated yourself the entire walk back to the deserted barracks, so engrossed in your own idiotic refusal of Wolffe’s offer that you failed to observe that Kade wasn’t alone until you were just a few steps away. He and Sinker seemed to notice you at the exact same moment, and their hands broke apart as Sinker jolted up from the bed so suddenly that he nearly smacked his head on the top bunk. The three of you exchanged a wary look and you attempted to dispel the discomfort by giving them a cheery wave hello, which only served to make the entire situation significantly more awkward.

“We were just—” Kade started, obviously still grappling for an answer as Sinker looked to him for guidance. 

“Should I go?” you asked plainly, watching as a flush spread over Kade’s cheeks.

“No, I was just leaving,” Sinker told you hurriedly, turning to Kade and adding, “I’ll, uh, see you for dinner?” 

“Looking forward to it,” Kade smiled, and you had to bite back a grin at how ridiculously happy he sounded. 

“Well, I wouldn’t get too excited, it’s probably just going to be some sort of veg-meat—” Sinker replied, and Kade shook his head.

“I meant, I’m looking forward to the company,” he clarified, and Sinker paused for a moment before giving him a small smile that reminded you so much of Wolffe that you had to look away.

“Ah. Right. So am I,” he said, almost shyly, nodding at you before turning on his heel and striding back through the rows of bunks.

“ _ So _ ,” you began, watching as Kade hastily pulled up the footage on the datapad, busying himself with it to an almost comical degree, “I take it you’ve decided to forgo Savah’s advice about not getting too close to anyone?” 

“ _ We’ve  _ decided,” he corrected you, glancing up from the sequence he was working on. “You’re just a lot more stubborn about admitting it than I am.”

“I’m not stubborn,” you snapped, taking a seat next to him and pulling the datapad toward you. “And if you’re done insulting me, we need to finish this up. I told Wolffe— _ Commander  _ Wolffe—that this would be ready for him to review after he finished up his reports.”

Kade said no more about it, but he didn’t have to; the way your voice had momentarily softened on Wolffe’s name was all the confirmation he needed.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Dinner was as unappetizing as Sinker had warned it would be, and you picked at the slab of veg-meat in front of you distastefully as you watched the entrance to the mess, willing Wolffe to stride through the doors. Kade and Sinker conversed animatedly beside you, oblivious to your invocations, and you feigned interest in the topic at hand, occasionally letting out a hum of agreement or a small laugh. But when a clatter of utensils on empty trays began to signify the end of the meal, you knew your silent wishes for Wolffe to join you were going unanswered.

“Sinker, do you know where the Commander is?” you blurted out, getting to your feet as he gave you a questioning glance. 

“Battle Room with the General. Been holed up in there for hours now,” he replied, his brows scrunching together worriedly. “Why? Did you need him for something?” 

“I was hoping to have him review our footage tonight so we could send it off,” you said, biting down on your lower lip nervously, “but I don’t want to interrupt.”

“Do you have your datapad with you?” Sinker asked, and you nodded, picking it up from the seat beside you and handing it over. “I’ll make sure it gets to him,” he promised, and you were tempted to offer to take it to him yourself before realizing your presence in something called a Battle Room was unlikely to be welcomed. 

“Thank you,” you told him, offering a small smile even as you tried to ignore the disappointment welling up in the hollow of your chest.

As soon as you returned your tray, you made your way back to the barracks, realizing after you had kicked off your boots and climbed atop your bunk that, without your datapad, you had nothing to distract you from thoughts of Wolffe. After determinedly staving them off for a moment, you relented, allowing them to fill up your mind as you burrowed beneath the thin synthafleece blanket. They veered from recollections of your first conversations with him, making your cheeks heat with shame once more at the insolent way you had addressed him, to the exchange you had shared with him in the corridor earlier that day. You had been close enough to catch the ozonic scent of blasterfire that lingered around him, and beneath that, a mixture of sweat and soap. Your mouth was suddenly very dry as you imagined slowly peeling down the collar of his uniform and kissing your way down the column of his throat, tasting the salt of his skin. 

“Stop it,” you admonished yourself angrily, yanking yourself out of the fantasy before it had a chance to fully form. 

“Stop what?” Kade asked from the bunk beneath you, and you realized with a jolt that you had been so absorbed in your thoughts that you hadn’t even heard him return from the mess.

“Nothing,” you lied quickly, grasping for a better answer. “I keep catching myself clenching my jaw.” 

Kade gave a low hum in response, sounding utterly unconvinced, but you were spared from further questioning by Sinker approaching, a weary half-smile on his lips. 

“All clear,” he announced, handing the datapad back to Kade. 

“Did he say anything about it?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop yourself, and Sinker hesitated for a moment before giving a fractional shake of his head.

“He didn’t have time to talk, but he wanted to make sure you were able to send that off as soon as possible,” he told you meaningfully, and you nodded before he continued. “He also asked me to let the two of you know that there will be a transport waiting to take you back to Coruscant at 0600 tomorrow morning.” 

“Back to Coruscant? I don’t understand,” Kade said as you clambered down the ladder and frowned at Sinker.

“Now that a squadron has been assigned to Soccoro to ensure we retain control of the mines, we’re needed elsewhere,” Sinker explained, grimacing slightly. “The Mid Rim, specifically.”

“We can’t go with you?” Kade asked, and Sinker shook his head. 

“It’s too dangerous a mission to risk bringing you with us,” he replied, sending Kade an apologetic look. “And even if you stayed aboard the ship, you’d just be waiting around for us to return. You’ll be much safer and far less bored back home.”

“So you don’t know how long you’ll be gone for?” you questioned, dread already settling in the pit of your stomach.

“No idea,” Sinker said, sounding momentarily defeated before one corner of his mouth quirked up. “But look on the bright side! You get to go home for a bit, I’m sure that will be nice.” 

“I’m sure it will be,” you agreed unenthusiastically, trying to produce a smile and failing dismally.

“You don’t seem convinced,” he remarked, and you shrugged.

“I’ll miss the food,” you quipped, and Sinker let out a short laugh.

“I’ll smuggle you a few ration bars then,” he promised, and you gave him a genuine smile this time before he turned to Kade. “What about you? Want me to send you back with some as well?” 

“No, thanks,” Kade replied, shaking his head. “It’s not the food I’m going to miss.”

“I know. You’ll miss this luxurious bed,” Sinker said seriously, deliberately obtuse. “I’m afraid I can’t smuggle one of those onto the transport though.”

Kade just gave him a small, sad smile, and Sinker’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly.

“If all goes according to plan, we should only be gone a few days. You’ll be back aboard in no time,” he told both of you, and you felt suddenly ashamed that he was attempting to cheer you up when it should have been the other way around.

The rest of the men were beginning to filter in, the barracks filled with a low hum of chatter as they readied to turn in, and you realized that despite your initial misgivings about shared quarters, you had already grown used to them. Though you knew you should be looking forward to sleeping in your own bed back home, you were struck with a sudden pang of loneliness at the thought. The feeling remained long after the lights went out.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The suddenness of your return to Coruscant had allowed no time to schedule any meetings for the remainder of the day, and you hailed an air taxi immediately upon exiting the shuttle once it settled onto one of COMPOR’s designated landing pads. Whatever guilt you felt for neglecting to inform your father of your arrival home was pushed aside by your need to get to the safety of your apartment and release the tears that had been threatening to spill over since the previous night. Kade seemed to notice the way your voice creaked with the effort of containing them, but said nothing, which you were glad for. You didn’t think you would be able to keep the resentment out of your voice when you told him you wished you could have said goodbye to Wolffe the same way he had gotten to say goodbye to Sinker. 

You abandoned your belongings in the hallway of your apartment and made a beeline for the fresher, stripping off your travel-worn uniform and stepping beneath the scalding stream with a great, shuddering sigh. Tears joined the tributaries coursing down your cheeks, and you sank to the floor of the stall as sobs wracked your body, tucking your head beneath your arms and crying until the water turned tepid and all that remained were breathless gasps. You cried for the men lost on Soccoro, and for their brothers, who had learned to bear the weight of their grief just as adroitly as they bore the weight of their armor. You cried for Wolffe, and his tentative, unpracticed smiles. And you cried for yourself, because the last thing you had done before leaving was refuse the one he had given you.

What felt like hours later, you emerged from the fresher, dressing in sleeping clothes and making your way to the kitchen to stare at the contents of the conservator. There was little to eat besides stale burrmillet bread with assorted condiments, none of which particularly appealed to you, and you pulled a bottle of Blackmoon ale from the back instead before uncapping it and retrieving the datapad from your pack. Though it should have been returned with the rest of the equipment, you had told Kade you wanted to work on another proposal for Savah, and he had handed it to you with a shrug. Feeling both guilty for the lie and foolish for the true reason you had held onto the ‘pad, you took a long sip of ale, your fingers hovering over the screen before moving as if by their own accord, seeking out the recordings of Wolffe and playing them over and over until your eyes burned with the strain of keeping them open.

  
  


∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You were pulled from fitful slumber in the early hours of the morning by your holotransmitter chirping insistently with a new message, and you fumbled for it blearily for a few moments before locating the power switch, startled to see General Plo materialize in the dim light.

_ “I hope you will excuse the brevity of this transmission; I am afraid I haven’t much time. While I cannot say how this will affect your placement with the 104th, I thought you should know that Commander Wolffe was severely injured while in the field of duty. He has been transferred to the Grand Republic Medical Facility on Coruscant, where he will remain until he is cleared to return—” _

He cut out abruptly, and you stared at the space he had occupied just moments before in numb silence before grabbing your comlink, heart pounding as you waited for Kade to answer.

“Hello?” he mumbled, speech slurred with sleep. “What’s going on?”

“I just got a message from General Plo,” you gasped out, clambering out of bed and searching frantically for a clean set of clothes. “Wolffe’s hurt, he’s in the medical facility here—”

“Hurt how? What happened?” Kade asked, and you shook your head, gripping the comlink so tightly your knuckles turned white.

“I don’t know!” you exclaimed, a frustrated sob clawing its way up your throat. “It cut out, all I know is that he’s here and he’s  _ hurt _ and I have to see him, Kade, I have to go and see him—”

“Okay, okay, slow down,” Kade said gently, and you squeezed your eyes shut, drawing in a ragged breath. “I’ll go with you, okay? We’ll go see him together right after the meeting—”

“ _ No, _ ” you replied vehemently, your jaw clenching at the mere suggestion. “No, I can’t go sit through a stupid meeting not knowing if he’s alright. I have to see him now.”

“What do you want me to tell Savah?” he questioned wearily, and you bit down on your lip, feeling momentarily guilty for the position you were putting him in. 

“I don’t know. Make something up. Tell her I have food poisoning,” you suggested, and he let out a skeptical scoff. “If she saw what they served in the mess, she’d believe it,” you added, and he muttered something in response.

“Fine. I’ll take care of it,” he told you, and you slumped slightly with gratitude. “Let me know how he’s doing when you get a chance, okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed, nodding, and then he went silent. 

You rarely took advantage of the special traffic privileges your father’s affluence afforded you, but today you exploited them without shame, navigating through the lanes almost recklessly and pretending not to hear the angry shouting of those you had cut off in the process. It took you just minutes to reach the medical facility, and the droid overseeing the docking station accepted your clearance code without question, granting you access through the doors. The activity in atrium seemed to halt as you strode to the main desk, the worker on duty looking up at you with a frown.

“Code?” she asked, and you repeated it, your fingers drumming an impatient rhythm on the countertop as she inputted it before shaking her head. “I’m sorry, but you aren’t cleared for this facility—”

“Try my father’s then,” you told her, watching as she shook her head once more. 

“I’m sorry, but you aren’t permitted to use his code for entry,” she said, giving you a tight-lipped, falsely apologetic smile.

“My father is the director of COMPOR, and a very close friend of the Supreme Chancellor,” you replied imperiously, leaning toward her. “I am here at his behest. Would you like me to comm him so you can explain to him yourself why you’re not allowing me to enter this facility, or would you like to save us both some time and input his access code now?”

She faltered for a moment, her jaw tightening with barely restrained anger before relenting. 

“What’s the code, please?” she questioned, and you recited it before she gave you a stiff nod. “And who are you here to see?” 

“Commander Wolffe, 104th Battalion,” you answered, your hand clenching into a fist on the desk as she scanned through a file on the datapad before her before calling over one of the 2-1B’s and instructing them to take you to the upper level. 

Your mouth was dry, sweat slicking the skin between your shoulder blades as you hurried after the droid, nearly slamming into it as it halted suddenly outside of Wolffe’s room before swiveling toward you. 

“He has been given a sedative. It is unlikely that he will wake for several hours,” the droid told you, ushering you inside with one spindly arm. “In the event that he does, please use the console to alert me so that I may administer another.” 

You nodded distractedly, barely glancing at the console the droid was referring to before rushing to the cot in the center of the room and sinking to your knees beside it. 

“What happened?” you asked softly, looking back at the droid.

“He sustained a blow to the face. The plastoid helmet he was wearing offered some protection, but not enough to save his eye. We have given him a cybernetic replacement,” the droid responded, and you nodded again, swallowing the lump in your throat as you turned to Wolffe.

The droid retreated without another word, leaving the room silent save for the quiet hum of machines and Wolffe’s low, steady breathing. He was laying on his back, utterly still apart from the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath the flimsi-thin medical sheet, a bacta patch covering the right half of his face. It wasn’t until you let out a shuddering breath that sounded far too loud in the small room that you realized you were crying, though you weren’t sure whether it was with anger for what the war had taken from him, or with relief that he hadn’t been taken from you. 

His hands rested atop the sheet, curled as though around a blaster grip, and you took hold of the one closest to you, clasping it in your own. Part of you expected him to stir, to yank his hand back with a scowl as he asked you what you thought you were doing. And part of you wanted him to, because even his vitriol would have been welcome in the face of this unfamiliar stillness, a stillness that had come so close to being eternal. But he didn’t stir, and so his hand remained between your own as the sun slowly filtered through the blinds with a brilliance that seemed to spite the shadow of death lingering over the room.

You wondered if the absence of a chair in the room was standard, or if it had been removed upon being occupied by someone that the staff felt was unlikely to receive any visitors. Either way, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave Wolffe’s side in order to search for one, and so you knelt on the unforgiving floor, forearms resting against the side of his cot. Hours passed, measured by routine vital checks by the 2-1B, and still, you sat there, one thumb absently mapping the callouses on his palm as your joints creaked in protest. Only when the noises emanating from the comlink in your pocket became too insistent to ignore did you relinquish your hold on him, retrieving the device and answering it as quietly as you could.

“How is he?” Kade asked, and you glanced over at Wolffe, unsure of how to answer.

“He’s still unconscious. But they have him on a lot of painkillers,” you replied in a low voice, “so it must be bad underneath the bacta patch.”

“Do they know when he might wake up?” he questioned, and you shook your head before realizing he couldn’t see it.

“No. I’m going to leave before he does though, I’m not—I’m not really supposed to be here,” you told him, wincing slightly at the exasperated sigh you heard on the other end. “And even if I was, I don’t think he’d want me here. I just...I had to see him.”

“I know. And I’m sorry to disturb you, but I don’t think Savah bought the whole food poisoning story. She wants to speak to you as soon as possible,” he said, and you suppressed a groan. 

“I’m leaving in just a few moments. I’ll comm her as soon as I’m home,” you promised, already dreading it. 

“Okay. I’ll talk to you soon,” Kade responded, and you gave a short goodbye before shutting the comlink off and turning back to Wolffe.

Taking his hand once more, you hesitated for a moment before bringing it to your lips and pressing a kiss to his knuckles, releasing him as you slowly got to your feet. He never had to know you had been there; there would be no record of your name on the visitor’s log. But you would at least know that for a few hours, someone had kept vigil by his bedside, and made sure he wasn’t the only warm presence in this cold, sterile room. Bolstered by the thought, you began to murmur a goodbye, only to be interrupted by your father’s furious voice breaking through the silence and asking,

_ “What in the blazes are you doing here?”  _

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	7. chapter seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come say hi on tumblr @ beskars :)

sharp & glorious thorn; chapter seven

_ “What in the blazes are you doing here?”  _

You turned with a startled gasp, attempting to look as neutral as possible as you took in your father’s severe expression, cheeks burning with guilt.

“I was—I’m here for work,” you lied unconvincingly, watching as your father’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. 

“That’s strange, because when I stopped by your office to say hello, I was told you were too ill to come in this morning,” he said, and you faltered for a moment. 

“I was. Stomachache. I feel fine now,” you replied, trying to reassure him with a smile but feeling it morph into a grimace. 

“If you’re feeling so much better, why didn’t you attend your meeting with Savah? Why come here? And if it really is for work, why did you need to use my access code?” he questioned skeptically, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I wanted to speak to Commander Wolffe as soon as possible, while the details of the battle were fresh in his mind. Once I got the transmission from General Plo, I didn’t want to waste any time waiting for security clearance. I didn’t think you’d mind,” you explained, your insides twisting with remorse at using Wolffe in an attempt to get out of the snare you had caught yourself in. 

“If you were hoping to interview him, why didn’t you bring a recording droid?” your father asked, and you hesitated, searching for a credible reason. 

“I didn’t think they’d allow recording inside such a secure facility,” you answered, gesturing vaguely around the room. “I just wanted to speak to him and see if he could give me an angle for our next piece.”

“I can’t imagine you got much out of him, he’s clearly been given some sort of sedative,” your father pointed out, nodding toward Wolffe. “Why stay all this time? I know what time you arrived, Hollys let me know as soon as my clearance code was used. The only reason I couldn’t get here sooner is because I was in a very important meeting with the Supreme Chancellor himself—” 

“I’m sorry,” you interjected quietly, darting another glance back at Wolffe, afraid your father’s uptick in volume would stir him from the depths of slumber. “I didn’t mean to stay so long, I was waiting around to see if he would wake up and I must have dozed off. I haven’t got much sleep as of late.”

“Dozed off? Where? On the floor?” your father demanded, looking about the room before his gaze settled back on you, stern and unyielding. 

“It doesn’t feel much different than the bunk I’ve been sleeping on,” you told him with a shrug, hoping your nonchalance would convince him that you were telling the truth.

Your heart was racing, wondering if he had seen the way you had been cradling Wolffe’s hand, and despite the utter mess you found yourself in, you found yourself wishing you could do so again, though this time it would be to comfort yourself. 

“You do realize that when you skip work it reflects poorly on me as well? It isn’t a secret that you’re my daughter, you don’t want people to think you’re getting away with this sort of behavior because of your relation to me,” your father said, and you felt your shoulders slump with relief, sensing that he was nearing the end of his line of questioning. 

“I wasn’t skipping work, I was just skipping a meeting to do something I felt was more important,” you replied, catching his disapproving expression and hastily adding, “but you’re right. I’m sorry. I hope my absence didn’t cause too much trouble.”

“Fortunately, everyone was too preoccupied with the visit from Sheev—” your father paused, voice trilling proudly on the Chancellor’s first name, and you fought back the urge to roll your eyes, “—to be too concerned with your absence. He did, however, express an interest in meeting you, and I had to tell him you were ill.” He frowned, and you did your best to compose your expression into one of contrition. 

“I’m  _ sorry _ ,” you said again, placing as much emphasis as you could on the word, and your father softened ever so slightly. 

“He sends along his best wishes, and hopes you make a speedy recovery,” he told you, and you tried to smile.

You very much doubted the Chancellor could spare such kind words for the men that were suspended in bacta tanks on Kaliida Shoals, which you had heard Sinker say was so overpopulated with wounded soldiers that some were being held on medical frigates until space could be made for them. 

“Kind of him,” you managed to get out eventually as you glanced at the chrono on the wall, realizing a droid was due any moment to give Wolffe another dose of analgesics. 

You were certain you wouldn’t be able to mask the concern on your face as the 2-1B tended to him, and that it would raise another set of questions from your father.

“If you don’t have any other plans for lunch, maybe I could make good on my offer to take you out to The Pinnacle?” you suggested, edging him toward the door as you battled the urge to look back at Wolffe.

“Are you sure you’re well enough to eat? I thought you said you had food poisoning,” your father frowned, and you waved away his concern with one hand.

“I’ll have something light,” you replied, slipping through the doorway. “Meet you there?” 

“I—well, alright, I suppose. Let me tell Hollys to push my afternoon appointments and then I’ll be right along,” he agreed as he followed you down the corridor.

“See you in a bit then,” you told him, giving him a small smile before making your way back toward the lift.

As the doors slid shut, you clasped your hands together tightly, wishing one of them belonged to Wolffe instead.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

  
  


Though you knew that the Coruscanti citizens dining at The Pinnacle were aware of the war raging just outside the Core Worlds, there was little to suggest they were at all perturbed by it. The snippets of conversation you caught as you followed the host through the clusters of ornate Laroon-wood tables seemed to consist of the usual drivel found on the entertainment channel of the HoloNet, and you felt a flash of shame as you realized you could have easily fallen in with their idle chatter just a matter of weeks before. You took your seat with a murmured thanks, and gazed around the room with a frown as you waited for your father to arrive, feeling just as uncomfortable as you initially had aboard the  _ Courageous _ .

“You don’t look as excited as I thought you would be for a meal here considering the army food you’ve been subjected to,” your father observed as he sat down beside you, and you hesitated, your teeth digging into your lower lip.

“It’s strange,” you said after a moment, looking up from the napkin you had been fidgeting with. “I thought I would feel relieved to be back home, but it doesn’t feel familiar anymore. It feels...surreal.” 

A waiter appeared, and your father put in an order for two soups before turning back to you with a frown. 

“Surreal?” he asked, and you paused again, unsure of how to explain it.

“Look around,” you told him, nodding around the room. “It’s like none of these people even realize there’s a war going on, it’s like it doesn’t even  _ exist _ —” 

“Isn’t that a good thing? This is what the Republic is fighting for, for all of these people to go about their lives as they always have, without the fear of the Separatists taking that away from them,” he replied, and you frowned.

“How is it a good thing that men are dying in droves so that these people can eat lobster bisellian and gossip about celebrities without a care in the galaxy?” you retorted, unable to keep the note of contempt out of your voice. 

“Those men are serving the purpose they were bred for,” your father said, and though his tone was not unkind, you bristled at the matter of fact way his words were spoken.

“Those men didn’t have a choice,” you replied tremulously, clutching the napkin so tightly the fabric began to strain between your hands. “You’d think if they really cared about protecting the Republic, some of them would have volunteered to fight with them, but no, they’re happy to just let these men die for them while they sit here—”

“Come now, Ro. Do you honestly think anyone would sacrifice their life if they didn’t have to?” he interrupted, raising a cynical brow.

“I would,” you told him decisively, only mildly surprised to find that you meant it. “If I could spare even just one of those men, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

“A noble sentiment,” your father said stiffly, his jaw tightening. “But you’re forgetting that the only reason the clones were created was to fight this war. If it could be fought by people like you and me, there would be no reason for any of them to exist.”

The waiter reappeared with two orders of seafood bisque, and you dropped your napkin, plunging a spoon into your bowl and stirring it angrily while you tried to form a response.

“You care a great deal for this Commander Wolffe,” your father stated, looking at you over the rim of his glass before taking a small sip.

“I don’t—” you spluttered, letting your spoon clatter down, your cheeks heating at the insinuation.

“Please, spare me,” he replied, raising a hand to quiet you. “If I wanted a work of fiction, I’d ask you to lend me a holobook as I’m sure it would be better thought out than whatever lie you were planning on telling me next.”

“I’m not lying,” you lied, resisting the urge to kick yourself. 

“We both know you weren’t at the medical facility on business,” your father said flatly, leaning back in his chair and fixing you with a level gaze.

“Okay, maybe I wasn’t. So what? I’ll use one of my sick days,” you told him, shrugging. “It’s not like I’m the only person to ever take a personal day—”

“How personal?” he cut in, and you faltered for a moment. “If it’s a harmless little crush, that’s one thing but you  _ cannot  _ harbor serious feelings for this man, for your own sake—”

“You can’t tell me who I’m allowed to have feelings for!” you burst out, drawing alarmed glances from the nearby tables and glaring back.

“Lower your voice,” he hissed, and you felt momentarily ashamed before he continued. “I am not trying to control you, I am trying to spare you from the pain of loss that will inevitably come from any sort of involvement with a soldier.”

“I understand more about the pain of loss than you’ll ever know,” you said coldly, and he recoiled as if you had slapped him.

“I understand loss very well, Ro. I didn’t think I could bear it when your mother left—” he told you quietly, and you shook your head, angry tears springing to your eyes.

“That’s the thing though. She left by  _ choice _ . I’ve watched men that have never been given a choice  _ die _ —” you gasped out, unable to continue, furiously wiping your the back of your hand over your cheeks.

“And look at what it’s done to you,” he said, gesturing at your tear-stricken face. “This is why Savah cautioned you against getting too close with anyone, can’t you see that?”

“I’m sorry we can’t all be as apathetic about their lives as you and Savah!” you spat out, your jaw clenching. “Maybe if either of you bothered getting to know any of them, you’d understand why!”

“There’s a reason farmers don’t name their livestock,” your father replied flatly, his expression unreadable, and you stared at him in silence, stunned by the callousness of his words. “You can hate me for saying it all you want, it doesn’t change the reality of your situation. Even if he somehow manages to survive this war, he wasn’t engineered to last a normal lifespan. You’ll be forced to watch Wolffe succumb to old age long before you—”

“Stop it,” you whispered, your lower lip trembling as you shook your head as if to ward away the thought. “And stop using his name.”

The waiter made another ill-timed reappearance, and your father waved him away impatiently, reaching for your hand and flinching when you yanked it away. 

“If you won’t cease this... _ association  _ with him for your own sake, do it for his,” he urged you, and you looked up, startled. “The Republic doesn’t look kindly upon involvement between soldiers and civilians, it will only hurt his career—”

“I find it very difficult to believe you care about his career when all of two seconds ago you were telling me that he was born just to die for the Republic,” you seethed, getting to your feet and pushing your chair in violently. “In your words,  _ spare me _ .”

You dug into your pocket for some credits and slammed them on the table before turning and stalking out of the restaurant, leaving a roomful of stunned customers in your wake. 

_ Just another thing for them to discuss instead of the war.  _

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Over the days that followed, you spent every waking moment on some sort of project, from actual assignments to voluntarily assisting some of the other teams on finalizing their pieces before handing them off to Savah. Despite your attempts to drive yourself to the point of exhaustion, you couldn’t sleep at night, instead restlessly revisiting the videos of Wolffe stored on your datapad until they brought you more misery than comfort, the ache of missing him increasing until it was unbearable. You knew you couldn’t risk another visit to the medical facility, not when it was sure to result in much more severe consequences this time, and so you waited in agony for news of him until it finally arrived in a missive with orders to report to a shuttle that would take you back to the  _ Courageous  _ the following morning. 

“Finally. I can’t wait to get out of here,” you told Kade as the two of you scanned the message in your shared office. 

You hadn’t told him about the fight you’d had with your father, but he had noticed you taking special care to avoid him ever since the debacle at the restaurant, and you could tell he was curious to know what had happened even if he had refrained from asking. And judging by his apprehensive expression, his curiosity was about to get the better of him.

“Now that we’ve gotten some good news, do you want to talk about what happened?” he asked you tentatively, and you faltered, unsure of the answer. 

Finally, you decided to fill him in, not because you really wanted to relive the argument you had gotten into at The Pinnacle, but because you would want Kade to tell you what was going on if you were in his position.

“My dad showed up when I was visiting Wolffe. At first, I thought he was just going to lecture me for using his clearance code to get into the facility but when I tried to smooth things over by taking him out to lunch we got into a huge fight,” you replied, your throat tightening slightly as you went on. 

“What about?” Kade questioned gently, and you took in a steadying breath before responding. 

“I was upset that no one in the restaurant seemed to care that there’s a war going on, and that innocent men are dying to keep them safe and he said—” you broke off, your lip quivering with the promise of angry tears. After a moment, you continued. “He said that they were serving the purpose they were bred for.”

Kade let out a low whistle but said nothing, and you looked up at him, your vision swimming with unshed tears.

“How could he  _ say  _ that?” you whispered, and Kade shrugged, his jaw tight.

“I think that’s how a lot of people feel. They see them as expendable,” he replied, and bile rose in your throat as you recalled your father’s words. 

“He compared them to livestock,” you said. “Why are we even doing this if that’s all people see them as? We’re just using them to try to make it look like the Republic cares about them, but they don’t, none of them do.”

Now Kade seemed to be struggling to contain his anger, grappling internally with himself for a long minute before speaking again. 

“We do,” he told you, his voice strained. “We can’t force everyone else to care about them, but we can show them that we care. We can make sure they aren’t forgotten. And that’s worth something, isn’t it?” 

The question seemed to suspend itself in the air between you, waiting for an answer that you weren’t sure you could truthfully give. 

“It is,” you replied finally. 

Silently you added,

_ It has to be.  _

  
  


∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

  
  


Nearly everyone else had left for the day by the time you and Kade finally finished your projects and began packing up your equipment to take on the shuttle back to the  _ Courageous _ . 

“What’s wrong?” you asked as you noticed Kade inspecting Sev critically, holding him up as if to check for signs of damage. 

“I gave him a few upgrades but we’ve been so busy the last few days that I just realized I haven’t properly checked any of them,” he replied, frowning. 

“We could run some tests now,” you offered, shrugging. “It’s not like I have anywhere else to be.”

Kade glanced at his chrono, chewing on his lower lip, and you raised an eyebrow. 

“But maybe you do?” you questioned, and he gave you a sheepish look. 

“I need to get somewhere before it closes,” he told you vaguely, and you cocked your head at him, waiting for him to elaborate. “It’s a specialty candy store in CoCo Town,” he added, cheeks reddening slightly.

“Okay,” you said slowly, nonplussed. “Why are you blushing? I don’t care if you’re buying candy—” 

“It’s not for me, it’s for Sinker,” he blurted out, and you let out a soft ‘ _ oh _ ’ as he busied himself with packing Sev away in his case, looking flustered. “He mentioned this one candy he tried and really liked and I wanted to bring some back for him, but I couldn’t find it in any of the regular supermarkets so I thought this place might have it—”

“What are we waiting around here for then? Let’s go,” you urged him, and he glanced up at you, surprised. 

“You want to go?” he asked, and you nodded, kneeling down to help him finish securing everything. 

“Yes, but we can’t just get candy for Sinker, it’ll look like we’re playing favorites,” you told him, grinning at him before adding, “I mean, I know he  _ is  _ your favorite, but I think we should get enough for everyone.”

“I’m not sure they’re really allowed to have sweets, Sinker sort of made it sound like they had to sneak them onboard,” he replied fretfully, and you paused for a moment before shrugging.

“I’ll ask Wolffe first to make sure it’s okay before we dole anything out,” you reasoned, and now Kade raised his eyebrows.

“Finally dropped the ‘Commander,’ huh?” he asked slyly, and you rolled your eyes.

“Come on. We don’t have much time before they close,” you said, getting to your feet and offering Kade a hand up. 

“That’s fine,” he grinned, looking in better spirits than he had in days. “We can talk about your feelings for Wolffe on the way there.”

You glared at him as you grabbed your bag, his cheerful mood rendering you incapable of summoning any real annoyance before telling him,

“We’re taking separate speeders.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

  
  


Given that you didn’t know what anyone liked besides Sinker, you had decided the safest bet was to purchase some of everything and left with several bags crammed to the brim of an assortment of sweets from all over the galaxy. Kade offered to be in charge of transporting one half of it, and you helped him load it into his speeder before taking a roundabout way back to your apartment, unbothered for once at the sluggish pace of Coruscant air traffic. When you arrived home, you re-organized your pack, idly looking through your belongings to see if there was anything you could bring with you that might be of interest to the men of the 104th. Eventually, you settled on a deck of Sabacc cards and a collection of data crystals containing several books apiece, hoping that they would come in handy, and forced yourself to go to bed sooner than usual, reasoning that the morning would come sooner that way. 

You rose a full hour earlier than was necessary, and spent a majority of it pacing about your apartment while drinking a large mug of caf before finally grabbing your belongings and hailing a taxi to the airfield, where a  _ Nu _ -class shuttle  was waiting to transport you back to the  _ Courageous  _ before continuing on to Kaliida Shoals with an array of medical supplies. Thankfully, Kade was ahead of schedule as well, and you greeted him with a nervous smile as the two of you lugged your packs to the ship and deposited everything to be stowed in the cargo hold. Glancing around, you noticed there didn’t seem to be any other passengers waiting to board, and frowned at Kade. 

“Is anyone else coming, or is it just going to be us like last time?” you asked, tightening the strap of the bag across your shoulder, and he shrugged in response before straightening up, looking at something across the landing pad. 

You turned to follow his gaze, your breath hitching in your throat as you saw Wolffe walking toward you, partially obscured by the glaring sunlight but recognizable from his familiar, purposeful stride. 

“I think someone else is coming,” Kade supplied unnecessarily, but you were too transfixed to form a reply, your pulse racing as he came to a stop before you. 

“Commander Wolffe. It’s good to see you again,” Kade said warmly, and Wolffe nodded in response, clapping him on the arm in the same way you had seen troopers greet each other before turning to look at you.

You began to greet him but the words caught in your throat as you traced the jagged, red scar from his forehead down through his milky silver cybernetic eye to his cheek, your heart clenching at the sight. He tracked your movements, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly as you faltered, and you were uncomfortably reminded of your disastrous introduction to him. 

“I can put a patch over it if it bothers you,” Wolffe told you stiffly, and you shook your head fervently, silently cursing yourself.

“It doesn’t,” you replied quickly, wishing you could sink into the permacrete and disappear forever. “It doesn’t bother me at all. It just...it looks painful,” you finished lamely, wincing. 

“It’s not,” he said flatly, and you wondered if he was giving you an honest answer or one meant to placate you. 

“You wear it very well, sir,” Kade cut in, sparing you from making another moronic comment, and you watched as Wolffe gave him a wryly amused look.

“Thank you,” he answered uncertainly, nodding his head toward the shuttle behind you. “Well, let’s not keep them waiting.”

You and Kade nodded in unison, turning and making your way up the entry ramp with Wolffe in tow. While he went to have a word with the pilots, you made to settle into the seat beside Kade, who shook his head vehemently. 

“What—” you started, shooting him a confused look as he sprawled out, forcing you into the seat on the opposite side.

“Trust me,” Kade said in an undertone, glancing over at Wolffe meaningfully as he returned from the cockpit.

He hesitated for a moment before sitting down beside you, and you fought back the urge to groan when you saw Kade bite the inside of his cheek to keep a grin from spreading across his face. The cabin was silent as the shuttle lifted off, save for the sound of Kade rustling around in his carry-on for his datapad, and you watched as he curled up into a comfortable position, pretending to be thoroughly engrossed by whatever was on the screen. You bit down on your lower lip, debating over whether to try to make conversation or to just leave Wolffe be, glancing over at him as he cleared his throat. 

“How’s your arm?” he asked, and you stared at him for a moment in disbelief, watching as his eyebrows scrunched together ever so slightly.

“Nevermind that. How are  _ you _ ?” you replied, your voice dropping lower as you searched his face concernedly. 

“I’m fine,” he told you stubbornly, nodding at your arm. “And I won’t nevermind it, I want to know.”

“It’s all healed up. It left a little scar but—” you broke off abruptly, watching as something akin to remorse flashed across his features.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, and it was so sincere that you felt your throat constrict with all the things you wanted to say to him, but couldn’t.

“Don’t be,” you answered softly, hesitating for a moment before adding, “I’m honored to have something in common with you.”

He was silent for a long moment, and you bit down on your lip anxiously, worried you had offended him. After all, he had gotten his scar in battle and you had gotten yours clumsily crawling through a busted down door; it was unlikely he saw any similarity between the two. Then, just as you were about to blurt out an apology, he gave you one of his familiar half-smiles.

“That’s not all we have in common. I seem to recall we support the same bolo-ball team as well,” he remarked drily, and you gave him a small grin, relief coursing through you as the two of you reached a comfortable lull in the exchange.

“I wanted to ask you something,” you said, suddenly remembering and grabbing your bag from where you had stowed it beneath the seat. “Kade and I wanted to bring something back for the men, but I wanted to make sure it wasn’t considered contraband or anything like that first.”

“What is it?” Wolffe asked warily, eyeing you as you undid the fastenings on your pack and opened it to reveal the candies you hadn’t had space for in your luggage. 

“Just candy,” you assured him, offering the bag out for inspection. “We weren’t sure what everyone liked so we just got some of everything,” you added, feeling unaccountably nervous as he picked through it with mild interest.

“It’s not contraband,” he replied after a moment, “but it is heavily frowned upon.”

“Oh,” you said, trying to mask the disappointment in your voice and failing, “well, that’s alright, I don’t want to cause any issues—”

You stopped abruptly as he sent a highly exaggerated frown in the direction of the not-contraband before handing the bag back to you.

“Now that’s out of the way,” he told you, one corner of his mouth twitching up slightly before he became serious once more. “Anyway, you fall outside of military jurisdiction so if you’re the ones bringing it aboard and distributing it, it’s not technically against regulations.” 

“Well,” you responded, smiling at him, “since it’s not  _ technically  _ against regulations, would you like some?” 

He hesitated for a moment before nodding, carefully selecting a blumfruit-flavored sweet and unwrapping it with a murmur of thanks. Not wanting to make him uncomfortable by staring, you turned to look at Kade, who was peering over at you surreptitiously from behind his datapad, and threw a piece of Tepasi taffy at him. He caught it in one hand and gave you an encouraging grin before returning his eyes to the screen, unrolling the candy into his mouth.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know,” Wolffe said quietly, gazing down at the candy in his palm with an unreadable expression.

“We wanted to,” you replied simply, biting down on your lower lip to keep yourself from admitting that this was the absolute least of what you wanted to do for him.

He shot you a grateful look before bringing his palm to his mouth, and you looked away, feeling your cheeks heat as you imagined kissing him and tasting the sweet tanginess of the blumfruit on his tongue. You realized abruptly that if you shifted even just slightly toward him that his knee would be grazing yours, the interstice between your bodies so palpable that you could almost feel the weight of his leg resting against you. Angling yourself away from him, you swallowed the dryness in your throat, certain that he could feel the way you longed for him to touch you even as you tried so hard to prevent it from happening. 

From the corner of your eye, you noticed him folding the wrapper into a neat square, and wordlessly offered your bag out to him. He hesitated for a moment and then tucked the wrapper down into the recesses, his knuckles brushing against yours as you did so. Your breath hitched and he pulled back at once as you carefully tightened the fastenings on your bag and stowed it beneath the seat once more, skin burning from the contact. 

As you straightened back up, you saw him flex his hand where it rested atop his knee, and wondered if he could still feel your touch. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

  
  
  



	8. chapter eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi thank you all for your support of this fic, it makes me so happy to read your reactions to it and i really hope you like this new chapter because it is the longest one yet! come say hi on tumblr @ beskars if you feel so inclined :)

sharp & glorious thorn; chapter eight

A heavy silence fell over the cabin as you settled back into the seat, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt and fighting the urge to glance over at Wolffe again.

“Did you have a good visit home?” he asked tentatively, turning toward you slightly as you gave him a small, pinched smile.

“Yeah, thanks,” you replied automatically, hesitating for a moment before shaking your head, mildly alarmed at how easily the lie had slipped out. “Actually, no. Not...not really,” you continued, your brows scrunching together. 

“Did something happen?” he questioned, seeming to surprise himself before hastily adding, “unless it’s private, I only meant—if you  _ wanted  _ to talk about it—” he broke off, looking uncomfortable and you couldn’t hold back a real smile, warmth spreading through your chest. 

“I do,” you admitted, sincerity giving way to apprehensiveness as you went on. “But do you really  _ want  _ to hear about it?” 

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t,” he told you, frowning as though that should have been obvious, and you let out a sudden laugh, his familiar bluntness putting you at ease.

“Okay. I mean, it’s not anything important, I just got into a huge fight with my dad,” you said, and his frown deepened as he angled himself toward you, silently urging you to continue.

You hesitated, deliberating on how best to frame the argument without letting on that your secret visit to the medical facility had been the catalyst for the entire thing, your stomach twisting guiltily.

“I don’t know if you know this, but he’s the director of COMPOR,” you began eventually. “He doesn’t directly oversee me, but since I work for a division of HNE funded by them, he’s pretty comfortable telling me how I should do my job. I disagreed with him about that in a pretty major way and, well, long story short, I sort of...yelled at him in the middle of a very fancy restaurant before storming out,” you finished, wincing slightly at Wolffe’s startled expression. 

“Well,” he said after a moment, a hint of a smile forming on his lips, “at least now I know that how you acted with me at first wasn’t anything personal. You’re just that combative with everyone.”

“I am  _ not _ !” you replied hotly, catching his skeptical look and letting out a short sigh of defeat. “Okay, fine, I see your point. But it  _ wasn’t  _ anything personal. I’m sorry if it seemed like it was,” you added, and he shrugged it off easily.

“No apology necessary,” he told you, and you frowned, frustrated rather than relieved that he was dismissing your hostility towards him so casually.

“No, it is. I was rude and difficult and you would have been well within your rights to kick me off your ship after how I behaved towards you,” you said, your cheeks heating with embarrassment as you recalled the way you had acted to him mere weeks before. “I’m sorry for all of it,” you finished softly, holding his gaze for a moment before dropping it back to your lap as your hands wove together nervously.

“You aren’t just being nice all of a sudden because of this are you?” he asked skeptically, gesturing at his cybernetic eye, and you shook your head fervently.

“No, I know you’d hate that,” you blurted out, and he stared at you for a long moment before nodding. 

“Good. I don’t want anyone to act differently towards me because of it,” he told you quietly, and the way he said it was so unguarded that your breath caught in your throat, silencing you.

“Well, in the spirit of that, I’m afraid I have to annoy you once more with an interview request,” you said, grimacing apologetically as he let out a long-suffering sigh. 

“I’ve changed my mind,” he replied grumpily. “I’ll take special treatment if it gets me out of this.”

“I promise it won’t be like last time,” you pleaded, and he gave you a doubtful look. “I’ll give you the list of questions beforehand so you can make sure that you’re alright with all of them, and if you aren’t, we’ll just skip them.”

“What if I want to skip all of them?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Then I tell Savah I’m not able to complete the interview,” you answered, shrugging. 

“No, I don’t want to get you into any trouble,” he said quickly, looking thoroughly unenthusiastic. “I’ll do it.”

“Wolffe, I’d rather get into trouble with her than ask you to talk about something you really don’t want to,” you told him gently, your cheeks heating as you realized you had used his name without even thinking about it before rambling on to hide your embarrassment, “and if she has any problems with that, well, I’ll—” 

“Yell at her in the middle of a restaurant?” he suggested wryly, and you gave him a look.

“If it comes to that, yes,” you responded, a little more forcefully than was necessary, and he was quiet for a moment before bestowing you with a familiar, lopsided smile. 

“It won’t. I’ll do it,” he said, and your shoulders slumped with relief. “We can discuss a time once I get my bearings.” 

“Take all the time you need,” you replied, nodding. “I’m sure we can find something to do while you get situated. If not, I brought Sabacc cards.”

“Are you any good?” he asked, leaning back in his seat and turning toward you with a curious expression. 

“No,” you answered, shaking your head. “Apparently I have a very obvious tell, but Kade won’t say what it is so I can stop doing it.”

You sent him an accusatory glare across the aisle and he shrugged, grinning at you from behind his datapad before returning his eyes to the screen as Wolffe gave a low hum of amusement.

“That’s surprising. You’re usually so reserved,” he quipped, and you swatted at his arm playfully before realizing what you had done and rescinding your hand back into your lap, embarrassed. 

“What about you?” you said, trying to distract him from the way you had begun to nervously fidget once more. “Are you any good?” 

“I’m alright,” he replied, giving a modest shrug. “But I prefer games that rely more on skill than chance.”

“Maybe I should try some of those instead, because the only part of Sabacc I’m good at is losing,” you told him, and he hesitated for a moment, looking almost nervous.

“Actually, Sinker and I came up with a game of our own. I could teach you if you want,” he said in an offhanded way that was belied by the hopeful expression on his face.

“I’d love to learn how to play, but I doubt I’ll be able to beat you at a game you made up,” you replied uncertainly.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that. You’re learning from the best, after all,” he pointed out, and you rolled your eyes at his affected brazenness, letting out a quiet laugh. 

“Alright then. But if I’m terrible, I’m blaming it on your teaching,” you joked, and one corner of his mouth curved up as he conceded with a nod. 

“Fair enough. But you won’t be,” he told you, and he sounded so sure of it that you couldn’t help but smile at him in return. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

When the bay doors of the  _ Courageous  _ slid open to receive the shuttle, you felt a momentary flutter of remorse in your chest, selfishly wishing that you could have Wolffe’s attention to yourself for just a little bit longer. The feeling dissipated as you watched him get to his feet, smoothing down his uniform with an impatient look that gave way to something almost hesitant when the ramp deployed with a clang, revealing a hangar full of soldiers standing at attention. He glanced back at you for the briefest of moments before disembarking and striding towards General Plo, who was waiting at the far end of the assembly. You made your way down the ramp as quietly as you could, hanging back with Kade so as not to intrude upon the reunion between Wolffe and his battalion. When he reached the General, he raised a hand to Wolffe’s shoulder, clasping it tightly as they exchanged a greeting, the bay strangely quiet in the absence of its usual bustle of activity. 

“At ease, men,” Wolffe called out as he turned to face them, and the solemnity in the hangar crumbled away as the air came alive once more with the hum of their voices.

After retrieving your bags from the cargo hold, you began to make your way towards the assemblage, elbowing Kade in the ribs as Sinker broke away from the crowd and bounded over, pulling his helmet off and tucking it beneath his arm. 

“Hi,” Kade said breathlessly, and you fought back a smirk.

“Kade,” Sinker nodded, his serious expression cracking as a smile spread across his face. “It’s good to have you back.”

“I’m gonna go put my stuff away,” you announced, though you were fairly certain neither of them were listening to you. “It’s nice to see you, too, Sinker,” you added with a wink, grinning at the sheepish look he gave you in response before hoisting your bag up and starting off for the barracks. 

When you passed by Wolffe, who was conversing with General Plo, you slowed slightly to give them both a respectful nod, resisting the urge to stop even as Wolffe broke off mid-sentence to meet your gaze. Offering him a very poor attempt at a salute, you watched as the corner of his mouth twitched up in response before he turned back to the General, looking faintly flustered. Biting the inside of your cheek, you ducked your head down and quickened your pace across the hangar, waiting until you were alone in the corridor before finally letting your smile burst forth. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You acclimated to being back aboard the  _ Courageous  _ much quicker than you had expected, a strange sense of comfort washing over you as you settled onto your bunk that evening. Though you were still too unfamiliar with so much of the inner workings of both the ship and the army that inhabited it to feel completely at ease, there was some solace in being amongst those who had seen the same realities of war that made it so difficult to adjust back into a society content to turn a blind eye. Curling up on your side, you powered on your datapad and checked for new messages, torn between relief and disappointment to see there was nothing from your father before setting it down as Kade and Sinker returned from the mess. 

“The Commander said we could interview him early tomorrow morning,” Kade told you, and you sat up a little too quickly.

“You saw him in the mess?” you blurted out, your cheeks heating as he exchanged a surreptitious look with Sinker before shaking his head. 

“No, he commed Sinker to let him know,” he replied, watching you amusedly, and you let out a soft, embarrassed  _ “Oh.” _

“Okay, well, I’ll just be working on questions then,” you muttered, picking up your datapad once more and lifting it to obscure your flustered expression. 

“Sure you don’t want to play a game of Sabacc with us instead?” Kade asked, and you shook your head. 

“That’s okay. Thanks though,” you told him, offering a reassuring smile as he hesitated for a moment before ducking down out of your line of vision. 

Word had spread throughout the men that there was a cache of candy to be found in the bag you and Kade had left open, and a steady stream of appreciative troopers made their way to your corner of the barracks to take a few pieces, some of them lingering to sit in on a game of Sabacc. You found yourself setting down your datapad every few minutes to talk to someone, and eventually just powered it off, clambering down to join the small gathering that had formed around your bunk. The heckling taking place was more entertaining than the game itself, and you felt yourself growing more comfortable each time a laugh rippled through the group, your earlier concerns that you were intruding upon their space momentarily forgotten. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a familiar trooper approaching and quickly rose from your spot on the floor to go and speak with him.

“Charge,” you greeted him, hesitating for a moment before reaching out to briefly touch his vambrace. “It’s good to see you back on your feet.”

He was still clad in all his armor, save for his helmet, and you noticed with a pang that he had painted a strikingly simple, recognizable comb just above his heart in the grey of the 104th. 

“Good to be back,” he replied quietly, drawing in an unsteady breath. “Listen, I wanted to say that I saw the tribute you made. And I...I think Combs would have really liked it.”

“I’m glad,” you told him softly. “Thank you for sharing the memories you have of him.”

He nodded tightly, and the two of you shared a moment of silence before you jerked your head toward the assemblage behind you with a hopeful look. 

“Would you like to join us?” you asked, and he grimaced slightly, looking uncomfortable. 

“I’m not much good at Sabacc,” he replied, and you shrugged.

“That’s okay, neither am I. But we can heckle Kade together,” you said, and he gave an amused look but made no move to follow you. “There’s candy,” you added, and his eyebrows lifted slightly.

“Okay,” he assented, and you grinned at him before returning to your spot beside the bunk and gesturing for him to have a seat next to you, wordlessly passing him the bag of sweets as he did.

Watching as Charge let out a quiet but genuine laugh at one of Sinker’s jokes, you felt a twinge of regret, wishing you could pause the moment in time and allowing them all to stay in it as long as they needed to. 

You couldn’t, but you took solace in the fact that for just a little while, the war was nothing to them but a distant worry.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

After breakfast the next morning, you wound your way through the corridors of the  _ Courageous  _ until you located the wardroom, and came to a stop outside the doors, knocking twice before taking a step back as they slid open to reveal Wolffe. 

“Come in,” he said, ushering both of you over the threshold, gesturing at the table in the center of the room before taking a seat. 

You sat down opposite him, pulling out your datapad and sliding it toward him as Kade powered Sev on, checking his settings before allowing him to hover just over your shoulder.

“The questions I have for you. You can tell me if there are any you want removed from the list now, or we can skip them as they come up during the interview if you decide you’d rather not answer,” you told him, watching anxiously as he silently scanned the screen. 

“No, these should all be fine,” he replied after a moment, passing the device back to you. “We can start whenever you’re ready.”

He looked only slightly less uncomfortable than the first time you had tried to interview him, and you sent him an apologetic look that he responded to with a grim, tightly lipped smile, smoothing down his uniform almost nervously.

“Everything looks good,” Kade announced, looking up from the live feed on his datapad. “We just need to test the audio levels and then we can get started.”

“Right. Can you introduce yourself please?” you asked Wolffe, doing your best to keep your voice as natural as possible rather than slipping into the artificial tone you were prone to whenever nerves got the better of you during an interview. 

“Commander Wolffe, 104th battalion,” he stated flatly, and Kade gave a nod of approval.

“Now accessing all files containing the word ‘ _ Commander, _ ’ please stand by,” Sev chirped from above you, and you frowned at him before turning to look at Kade.

“What’s he doing?” you questioned, jerking your head towards the droid, but before Kade could answer, Sev was playing back the first recording he came across. 

_ “I bet you’d make a lot fewer excuses for the Commander if he didn’t look like that,”  _ your voice crackled through the built-in speaker, tinny and muffled but unmistakably you. 

You froze, petrified by your own humiliation as realization dawned on Wolffe’s face, unable to do anything but sit there as the recording continued.

_ “Like what, exactly?”  _ Kade responded, and you sent him a look of alarm, silently urging him to do something.

“Sorry!” Kade cried, grabbing Sev and fiddling with his controls. “I don’t know what he’s doing, I installed some upgrades but I think they’re malfunctioning—”

“ _Ugh, you_ know,” your voice continued, painfully audible even over Kade’s rambled apologies. “ _Handsome. In a mean, angry sort of way_.”

“Sev, shut  _ up _ !” you hissed, your cheeks impossibly hot. “Just shut him off, Kade, for kriff’s sake!”

Kade seemed to have forgotten where the power switch was, fumbling for it for several long moments before finally succeeding in cutting off the recording just as you finished announcing,

_ “I don’t think anyone that disagreeable should get to be good-looking, it hardly seems fair—” _

The silence that followed was deafening, blood thrumming in your ears as you determinedly stared at the pleekwood surface your hands rested atop of. 

“Evidently, someone agreed with you,” he said finally, and you looked up from your meticulous study of the tabletop to see him gesture vaguely at the right side of his face.

“On the contrary sir,” Kade replied, giving an embarrassed cough, “I think the scar only adds to your allure.”

Wolffe let out a huff of breath that might have been a laugh, his gaze flickering back to you as you struggled to gather an apology together, the silence between you stretching out for far too long.

“That was from Soccoro,” you got out eventually, the words barely a whisper in your uncomfortably dry throat. “It wasn’t recent, I promise. I—I don’t still think that—” you went on clumsily, your face burning with humiliation.

“That I’m handsome?” Wolffe questioned, his lips twitching up ever so slightly, and you shook your head fervently.

“That you’re disagreeable. I was just angry and—and  _ venting _ , I didn’t mean any of it,” you told him pleadingly, and you thought you saw a brief flash of disappointment in his features before he shrugged indifferently. 

“Look, whatever the two of you discuss in private is none of my business,” he said, settling back into his chair and giving Kade a wry look. “I’d suggest checking those upgrades you installed though, that droid could have all sorts of unpleasant surprises in store.”

“I will,” Kade promised, and Wolffe nodded approvingly. 

“Good. Let’s carry on then,” he replied, and you waited for Kade to get Sev set back up, patently avoiding looking at Wolffe as Kade whispered a warning to the little droid to not misbehave again.

The heat in your cheeks didn’t begin to recede until you had finally reached the end of your questions, at which point Wolffe promptly excused himself to attend a briefing with General Plo, giving you both a polite nod on his way out. As soon as the doors slid shut behind him, you buried your face in your hands with a groan, letting out a rather inventive string of expletives while Kade patted your back consolingly. 

“I’m really sorry,” he said anxiously as you finally sat upright, turning to look at him with a dismal expression. “I just thought a voice-activated keyword search would be helpful, I never would have installed it if I thought something like  _ that _ would happen—”

“There’s no way you could have known,” you reassured him, waving away the apology. “But if you really feel bad about it, you can make it up to me by ejecting me from the airlock so that I never have to see him again.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad,” he told you, and you stared at him blankly for a moment before he added, “he didn’t even seem mad. He actually just looked pretty disappointed.”

“About what?” you asked, curiosity getting the better of you despite your annoyance.

“When I said the scar only adds to his allure. He looked at you. I think he was hoping you would agree with me,” he replied, giving you a conspiratorial look, and you scoffed.

“Yeah, right,” you muttered sarcastically. 

Part of you hoped that he was right, of course, but if he was, it only meant you had fumbled the opportunity to do so. 

“He likes you,” Kade said, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “Even if I didn’t have intel that proved as much, it was so obvious—”

“Hold on, what  _ intel _ ?” you demanded, cutting him off.

“That’s on a need-to-know basis,” he responded airily, and you smacked his arm, causing him to jump back with an affronted expression. 

“I need to know, you moof-milker!” you told him, and he gave you a tight-lipped smile, shaking his head.

“I’ll tell you if you just admit that you like him,” he answered, and you glared at him.

“That’s just a trap to get me to admit it,” you scowled, and Kade shrugged.

“You might as well. It’s as obvious as your tell in Sabacc,” he told you, and you groaned again, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers.

“ _ Fine _ ! Fine. I like him. I like him a lot. Are you happy?” you said forcefully, watching as a delighted grin spread across Kade’s face. “Now give me this so-called intel.”

“Okay, so I lied about the intel—” he admitted, wincing as you swatted at him again, releasing a torrent of expletives, “—but I don’t need that to know he does. The way he looks at you is proof enough.” 

You were silent for a long moment, hardly daring to allow yourself to believe it, a question slipping past your lips before you could catch it.

“So what do I do?” you asked, and Kade gave you a bemused look as though it should have been obvious.

“Tell him, you idiot.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You didn’t take Kade’s advice. Instead, you secluded yourself in the barracks as much as possible over the next two days, only abandoning your work to venture to the mess and the fresher. Between your careful avoidance of both your father at the COMPOR offices in Coruscant and Wolffe aboard the  _ Courageous _ , you were starting to think you could have a promising career in espionage. 

“You can’t hide in here forever you know,” Kade remarked, joining you atop the bunk as you finished editing the interview footage. “You’re going to have to talk to him again at some point.”

“Not if I play my cards right,” you muttered, jabbing at the screen with unnecessary force.

“Well, you never do. You’re terrible at cards,” he told you, and you shot him a withering look before returning to the datapad. “Come on. He’s probably wondering why he hasn’t seen you around.”

“If he was wondering that, he would have had Sinker or someone ask me what was going on,” you replied dismissively, and Kade scoffed.

“No, he wouldn’t. He’s just as stubborn as you are, and you know it,” he countered, and you groaned, annoyed that he was probably right. “I told you, he didn’t even seem upset with you. Just go talk to him,” he urged you, and you let out a short sigh, setting the datapad down.

“Maybe he’s not upset with me about the disaster with Sev, but I don’t think he’ll be very happy with me when he finds out I lied to him,” you said, and Kade gave you a quizzical look. 

“When did you lie to him?” he asked, and you hesitated for a moment, grappling with the words.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly a lie,” you replied, biting down on your lower lip anxiously before continuing. “But I didn’t tell him that the whole reason I got into that fight with my dad was because I got caught using his access code to get into the medical facility. So he doesn’t know that I visited him, which I feel guilty about, but I’m scared that if I tell him he’ll be upset with me for not saying something sooner, or worse, for going to see him in the first place.”

Kade was silent for a moment, watching as you hugged your knees to your chest, your teeth worrying away at your lower lip. 

“I don’t think he will be. And you need to tell him, because it’s the only way you’re going to get over the guilt that you’re feeling,” he told you gently, and you let out a sigh of defeat.

“Okay. Let me just finish editing this first, he probably needs to take a look at it anyways before we send it off to Savah,” you mumbled, reaching for the datapad and resuming your work. 

“Great. I’ll go find Sinker and see if he knows where Wolffe is,” he replied, climbing down from your bunk and bounding off in search of him. 

“Thanks for all your help,” you called at his retreating back.

It came out considerably more earnest than you had intended.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You found yourself outside the wardroom once more just a short while later, attempting to compose yourself as you raised a hand to knock. Before you could, the door slid open and you took a step backward in surprise as Wolffe strode out, stopping short at the sight of you. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked, and you deflated slightly before he gave a small shake of his head, his brows furrowing. “I mean, is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine,” you assured him, holding up your datapad. “I just wanted to get your approval on this interview footage before I send it off.”

“That’s not necessary,” he frowned. “I know we didn’t discuss anything classified in that interview, so I don’t need to review it.”

“Oh,” you said quietly, hesitating for a moment before continuing on. “Well, actually that wasn’t all. I was hoping to speak with you, if you’re not too busy.”

“I have some time,” he replied, looking at you curiously. “My office is nearby, we can talk there.”

You nodded, following him down a short corridor and into a small room furnished with little else besides a desk and two chairs, one of which he pulled out for you. 

“Thanks,” you murmured, setting the datapad down in front of you and clasping your hands together nervously as you drew in a deep breath.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he questioned, leaning toward you slightly with a searching expression. 

“I’m fine, I just...I wanted to apologize again for what happened the other day with Sev,” you told him, and he was silent, seeming to sense that you weren’t quite finished. “I feel really terrible. And again, I didn’t mean what I said about you being disagreeable—”

“Well, you did at the time,” he pointed out, one corner of his mouth twitching up. “You didn’t exactly try to hide how you felt about me.”

You gave an involuntary wince.

“ _ Felt _ . Past tense,” you said quietly. “I don’t feel like that towards you now.”

“And how do you feel towards me now?” he asked just as softly, and your breath caught in your throat.

It would have been so easy to lean forward and close the distance between the two of you, to wordlessly answer his question with a kiss. His gaze flickered down to your mouth as your tongue darted out to moisten your lips before returning to you, and you held it, waiting for him to reach across the desk for you. The chance was slipping away from you, and you felt a surge of panic in your chest as it fled, shakily exhaling as the moment came to an end.

“And now...I find you almost agreeable,” you replied, trying to sound lighthearted, and he gave you a small, tired smile.

“A high compliment coming from you,” he remarked drily, and you attempted a smile in return. 

There was a long pause, and you grabbed your datapad before getting to your feet, watching as he followed suit.

“Well, I don’t want to take up too much of your time. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry about before,” you told him, and he waved the apology away with one hand. 

“It’s really alright,” he assured you, and you sent him a grateful look. “While you’re here, I wanted to let you know that we’ll be making the jump to Coruscant tomorrow morning.”

“What for?” you questioned, making a face.

“The ship’s due for a few repairs. Nothing major, but we need to get them taken care of before our next deployment,” he told you, catching your expression and adding, “we should only be there for a day or so.”

“Good,” you muttered, and he gave you a quizzical look. "The sooner we're off that planet, the better."

“Is it really that bad?” he asked, and you deflated, realizing how petulant you must have sounded.

“No, it’s just...I haven’t spoken to my dad since we got into that fight, which means I’ll have to avoid the office. I’ll probably just hole myself up in my apartment,” you replied, and he was silent for a moment. 

“Well, if you want a change of scenery, a lot of the boys will probably be heading out to 79’s tomorrow night. I’m sure they’d love for you to join them,” he said casually.

“Will you be joining them?” you asked, not bothering to keep the hopeful note out of your voice, and he hesitated for a moment before giving a single nod.

“I suppose I could,” he answered, and your heart leaped in response.

“Great. Well, I’ll leave you to it, but I’ll see you then?” you confirmed, and he nodded again. 

“See you then,” he echoed, one corner of his mouth turning up and you smiled back as he added a quiet, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Wolffe,” you replied softly, and then the door slid open and you stepped back out into the corridor, realizing abruptly that you still hadn’t told him about your visit to the medical facility. 

You promised yourself two things as you made your way back to the barracks. One was that you would finally tell him about how you had visited him. The second was that, if another moment like the one that had transpired between the two of you in his office arose, you wouldn’t let it slip away again. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The  _ Courageous  _ arrived in the shipyards Coruscant early the following morning, and you parted ways with the 104th somewhat reluctantly, promising that you would see them later on before boarding the hovertrain to your district. Not wanting to run the risk of bumping into your father at the office, you tried to talk Kade into putting off whatever work he had to complete until the next day and joining you for breakfast at a nearby tapcaf instead, but he declined, saying he had to do something. He offered no elaboration, and you gave him a look you hoped was equal parts skepticism and disappointment before making your way to your apartment. 

With no projects to work on from home, you found yourself searching for something to do almost immediately after setting down your bags. You cleaned the entirety of your flat, which was thoroughly unnecessary considering you hadn’t spent any time in it, rid the conservator of the unfortunate miscellanea you had left behind, and re-organized your pack before flopping down on your bed, letting out a groan when you realized only an hour had passed. Though no one had specified when they would be venturing out to 79’s, you were fairly certain it wasn’t going to be before sunset, leaving you with an abundance of time on your hands and no ideas as to what to do with it. Finally, you climbed into your speeder and navigated your way into the stream of traffic with no particular destination in mind, only mildly surprised when you found yourself at a particular specialty store in CoCo Town, buying a bag of blumfruit-flavored candies. 

You got ready to leave far earlier than was necessary, and sat on the edge of your bed trying to distract yourself by watching the entertainment channel before giving up and shutting it off with an irritated sigh, instead opting to lay there and wait. When at last the sun sank below the horizon, constellations of neon signs visible through the window as the warm glow of slowly-building traffic illuminated your bedroom, you decided it was late enough. Making your way to the kitchen, you poured a measure of Corellian whiskey to ease your nerves and quickly downed it before hailing an airtaxi to the bar, wishing Kade was accompanying you so that you didn’t have to go alone. 

There was a formidable crowd of both soldiers and civilians gathered outside when you arrived, all of them appearing to be in varying stages of intoxication, but none of them recognizable as members of the 104th. You bypassed them and headed straight for the entrance, peering around the room for someone you knew, and turned suddenly as someone called your name from the bar.

“Hey! Remember me?” a trooper with a familiar, upbeat voice continued when you gave him a look of confusion, and your mouth fell open in surprise.

“ _ Chipper _ ?” you exclaimed, breaking into a grin as you hurried over, hesitating for a moment before giving him a quick hug. “Sorry I didn’t recognize you at first,” you added as you pulled away, and he waved the apology away with a smile.

“That’s alright, you never saw me without the helmet, remember?” he said, and you gave a sheepish shrug.

“All the same. It’s good to see you,” you told him earnestly. “Is Limit here as well?” 

“On the dancefloor,” Chipper replied, nodding towards the center of the room with an amused expression, and you followed his gaze to see the man in question energetically flailing his limbs to the fast-paced leap-jump music blaring through the speakers. 

“Wow,” you mouthed, turning back to Chipper, and he grinned. “He really gets into it, huh?”

“It’s his way of de-stressing,” he answered, pausing before adding drily, “so we’re here pretty often.”

“No wonder he’s so good,” you remarked, and he laughed.

“I’m sure he’d be happy to show you some moves,” he told you, taking a sip of his drink.

“Maybe in a bit,” you replied, grinning. “After I’ve had several drinks.”

“Well, he’ll be out there all night so you’ve got plenty of time,” he reassured you, waving to someone behind you as they made their way over. 

“Good to know. Maybe I’ll see you out there later on?” you questioned, and he gave you a conspiratorial wink.

“Maybe. If not, it was good seeing you again,” he replied. 

“You, too,” you smiled before moving to the side to allow his friend to sidle up to the bar, and scanning the room once more for a sign of the 104th. 

Your eyes finally settled on Wolffe, tucked away into a corner booth, and you let out a short, nervous exhalation before winding your way through the crowded floor and waving very awkwardly as he looked up at you. 

“Hi,” you said, suddenly feeling very shy.

“Hi,” he echoed, his mouth twitching up as he scooted over to allow you to sit down next to him, and you did so, your breath hitching as your knees bumped together, the coarse material of his uniform brushing over your skin. 

There was a long pause during which you both pretended to be watching the enthusiastic groups on the dancefloor before he cleared his throat.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked, and you hesitated for a moment before shaking your head.

“I’m okay for now. I kind of already had one before coming here. Thank you though,” you replied, and he gave you a quizzical look.

“Why would you have a drink before coming to a bar?” he questioned, his eyebrows furrowed, and you shrugged, embarrassed.

“I don’t know, I was nervous,” you blurted out, internally cursing yourself as he tilted his head at you curiously.

“Why were you nervous?” he said, and you shrugged again, your cheeks heating. 

“I just get sort of anxious going places by myself sometimes. I tried to get Kade to come with me, but he told me he had to do something,” you replied, and Wolffe rolled his eyes.

“His name isn’t something, it’s Sinker,” he scoffed, and you stared at him for a moment in silence before letting out a surprised laugh. “They came by for a bit but left a little before you showed up.”

“Have you been here long?” you asked, and he looked faintly embarrassed. 

“Not too long,” he answered unconvincingly, and you gave him a skeptical look until he continued. “Well, alright, I’ve been here more or less since they opened.”

“Why?” you exclaimed, and he hesitated, now appearing quite flustered. 

“I wasn’t sure what time you would be arriving and I didn’t want you to show up and none of us be here,” he explained matter-of-factly.

“I’m sorry,” you said, biting down on your lower lip guiltily. “I would have come sooner if I had known you were already here, I just didn’t want to be the first one to show up. Where  _ is  _ everyone else though?”

“Most of them probably won’t be here til later,” he shrugged, and you nodded, looking around the room again before turning back to him. “Are you sure I can’t get you something?” 

“I should probably wait a bit. I took that shot on an empty stomach,” you replied, pulling a face.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised, exiting the other side of the booth before you could respond, and making his way toward the bar while you fidgeted with a cocktail napkin. 

When he returned, he was holding a martini glass filled with an assortment of garnishes, a toothpick sticking out of the slice of muja fruit on top.

“They don’t really serve food here, but I got you these in case you were hungry,” he told you, sounding somewhat embarrassed as he set it down in front of you before sliding back into the booth. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” you admonished, giving him an appreciative look that he shrugged off. “But thank you, because I am actually pretty hungry,” you added, pulling the piece of fruit off the toothpick and holding the makeshift utensil out to him.

He hesitated for a moment before taking it, his fingertips brushing against yours as he did so, and speared a slice of meiloorun, carefully peeling back the rind before taking it into his mouth. You tried in vain not to stare as he licked the juice of it off of his thumb, your skin heating as he offered the toothpick pack to you, accepting it with a murmur of thanks. The glass was soon empty, and you realized that you were somehow hungrier now than you had been before, your stomach giving a quiet grumble.

“Would you maybe want to go get dinner with me?” you asked abruptly, the question slipping out before you could stop to consider it, and you watched as he seemed to silently deliberate before hastily continuing, “if you’d rather stay and wait for everyone else, I completely understand—”

“No, actually, I was sort of hoping to be gone by the time they arrived,” he told you, giving you a half-smile. “I don’t want them to feel like I’m here to supervise what they do while they’re off-duty.” 

“Right, okay,” you nodded, feeling very flustered. “Well, there are a couple different spots around here, I don’t know what you’re in the mood for but…” you trailed off, looking to him for some indication.

“Anything’s fine,” he assured you. “I’m sure you know the area better than I do anyway, so wherever you like is good with me.”

“Okay,” you repeated, giving him a small smile. “Well, do you want to—” you jerked your head towards the exit, and he nodded, getting up from the booth and trailing slightly behind you as you threaded your way through the packed room. “There’s a pretty good tapcaf on the level just below this one,” you said, and he nodded again, following you set off for the stairs. 

The two of you walked in silence for several minutes, words itching in your throat, before you finally came to an abrupt stop in the shadow of a narrow alleyway, unable to continue until you told him what you had meant to in his office. 

“Is everything alright?” he asked, his brow furrowing concernedly, and you bit down on your lower lip, shaking your head slightly.

“I lied to you,” you forced out, your breath hitching slightly. “When I told you about the fight with my dad, I didn’t tell you the real reason.”

He was quiet, waiting for you to continue, his expression unreadable in the dim, flickering light of the neon signs up above you. 

“He was mad at me because I used his clearance code to get into the medical facility so that I could visit you,” you told him, watching his face carefully for some sign of anger. “And I know I wasn’t supposed to be there, and I understand if you’re angry with me—”

“I’m not angry,” he interjected, raising a hand. “But that could have gotten you into trouble with more people than just your dad—”

“I know. It was stupid, but I didn’t care, I just—I had to see you, Wolffe, I had to make sure you were okay—” you replied, breaking off as your throat constricted suddenly, your vision blurring slightly. 

“Why?” he asked softly, and you let out a shaky breath, taking a step forward to close the distance between the two of you.

“You know why,” you whispered, and then you kissed him.

Your hands came up to cradle his face, thumbs brushing over the stubble on his cheeks as his lips parted for you, his fingers gently grasping your forearms. He tasted of the fruit you had shared, his mouth warm and pliant as he kissed you back tentatively at first, and then with more surety, the same way he smiled at you. When you finally drew apart, he turned to the side slightly to press his lips to your palm, letting out a quiet, contented sigh against your skin. 

“Actually, there’s something else I lied to you about,” you said after a moment, and he froze. “Remember when I said I didn’t mean anything on that recording from Soccoro?” 

He nodded somewhat warily.

“I should tell you now that I meant what I said about you being handsome very,  _ very  _ much,” you continued, and he gave you an amused look. 

“ _ Meant _ . Past tense,” he pointed out, a teasing note in his voice.

“Still do,” you murmured, giving him a fondly exasperated eye-roll. 

Then you kissed him again. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

  
  
  
  
  



	9. chapter nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please note that the explicit rating comes into play in this chapter! okay that is all, hope you enjoy and tysm for all your support of this fic!

sharp & glorious thorn; chapter nine

When you finally broke apart once more, Wolffe was looking at you with barely concealed amusement, lips quirked up in that familiar little smile that made your heart ache with fondness.

“What?” you asked quietly, brushing your thumb over the upturned corner of his mouth, trying to commit the memory of it to your skin. 

“Were you actually hungry, or was this just a ploy to get me alone?” he replied, raising one brow slightly, and you laughed.

“Both,” you admitted sheepishly. “I  _ am  _ hungry, but since I messed up my chance to tell you while we were in your office…” you trailed off.

“Is that what you were about to tell me when I asked how you felt toward me?” he said, and you hesitated, giving him a slightly embarrassed grin.

“Sort of. I was mostly just thinking about how badly I wanted to kiss you,” you told him quietly, and he let out a small, unsteady exhalation, his warm breath fluttering against your hand. 

“Me, too,” he murmured, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses brushing together.

“Well, why  _ didn’t  _ you?” you asked, teasingly accusatory, and he huffed.

“Why didn’t  _ you _ ?” he countered, and you were quiet for a moment, your breath hitching slightly as his hands skimmed up your forearms and over your shoulders before clasping at the small of your back, bringing you flush against him. 

“Kade said I’m too stubborn,” you said after a pause, and although you were too close to see it, you knew Wolffe was rolling his eyes in response. 

“Sinker said something similar to me,” he replied, sounding exasperated, and you drew back to look at him, surprised.

“You talked to Sinker about me?” you questioned, and his expression morphed into something mildly defensive. 

“You talked to Kade about me,” he pointed out, hesitating before adding, “well,  _ complained  _ to Kade about me, at least—”

“Like you didn’t ever complain to Sinker about me,” you scoffed, and he fixed you with a solemn look. 

“I didn’t,” he told you simply, and you faltered slightly, abashed.

“Oh,” you said stupidly, feeling guilty. “Why not? I know I’ve been a real pain—”

“Because I would never say something about you that I wasn’t willing to say to your face,” he replied seriously, before his mouth twitched up into a grin. “That aside, I agree. You have been a real pain—” 

“Hey!” you exclaimed indignantly, swatting at him, and he leaned forward to brush his lips against yours.

“But that didn’t make me like you any less,” he finished, his rough voice softened by near-tangible affection.

“Good,” you whispered, bringing your mouth back to his.

Your hands found their way down to his chest, pressing into him, and he allowed himself to be gently pushed against the wall, shrouding the two of you completely in the shadows of the alley. His fingers unclasped at the base of your spine, traveling over your sides and splaying almost tentatively over your waist, and you deepened the kiss, sighing into the safety of his mouth as he drew you closer. You felt his hold on you tighten as your lips trailed downward, brushing over his stubbled jawline before ducking beneath his chin and pressing a series of open-mouthed kisses to the warm skin above his collar. 

His head tipped to the side slightly to allow you better access to his neck, and you heard him let out the quietest of moans as you sucked at his pulse point experimentally. The sound lodged somewhere deep in your chest, and you exhaled shakily against his throat, grasping at the coarse material of his uniform to steady yourself. One of his hands came to rest beneath your chin, tipping your face up toward him, and your mouth had just begun to part for him when your stomach let out a thoroughly undignified grumble, bringing both of you abruptly out of the moment. He let out a soft huff of laughter against your lips, kissing you lightly, and then peeled his back away from the wall, gently disentangling himself from you.

“Sorry,” you cringed, embarrassed, and he shook his head.

“Don’t be. Now I know asking me to get dinner with you definitely wasn’t just a ploy to get me alone,” he replied amusedly, and you gave him a quick, apologetic kiss.

“No, but that was a nice bonus,” you told him, and he frowned slightly, tipping his head to the side.

“Just  _ nice _ ?” he asked, and though you could tell he had meant it teasingly, the words were tinged with worry that you quickly sought to abate. 

“Very nice,” you corrected, pressing your lips to his. “Perfect. Amazing. Exquisite.” 

You punctuated each word with a kiss before grinning at him, and he gave you a fondly exasperated eyeroll, the tension easing from his features.z

“Alright, don’t lay it on too thick,” he muttered, though he couldn’t stop one corner of his mouth from twitching up, and you reached down and grabbed his hand, your expression fading to one of the utmost seriousness.

“Better than I dreamed,” you told him earnestly, and his eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise.

“You dreamed about this?” he asked quietly, and you gave a combination of a shrug and a nod.

“Well, sort of. I thought about it,” you admitted, your gaze flickering down to your interlaced fingers before coming back up to him and adding, “a lot.” 

“When you weren’t busy complaining about me?” he replied drily, and you shot him a look.

“I can multi-task,” you said haughtily, and he gave a snort of amusement.

“So were you thinking about kissing me when you told me that you wished I was a droid?” he questioned, and you felt your cheeks heat with embarrassment at the memory.

“No,” you answered softly, giving his hand an apologetic squeeze. “I wasn’t thinking at all when I said that.”

He hesitated, catching your remorseful expression, and offered you a consolatory smile as if to absolve you of the incident. 

“Come on,” he told you softly, jerking his head toward the street. “Let’s go get dinner.”

You weren’t sure how true your father’s words had been about the Republic frowning upon involvement between soldiers and civilians, but for Wolffe’s sake, you reluctantly let go of his hand and made sure to maintain a respectful distance between the two of you as you led him to the tapcaf. The dinner crowd had already departed, not yet to be replaced by those in search of a late-night meal, and you were slightly relieved to see that those at the occupied tables seemed too interested in their food to pay you any mind. He followed you to a booth nestled into the corner, and slid into the seat opposite you, glancing over his shoulder at the door before turning back in your direction with an uncomfortable expression.

“Sorry, is this alright? We can go somewhere else if you’d prefer—” you offered, instinctively reaching for his hand where it rested on the plastech surface before thinking better of it and drawing it into your lap.

“No, it’s not that,” he assured you with a slight grimace. “I just—I don’t like having my back to the door,” he said haltingly, and your brow furrowed in confusion for a moment before you noticed the anxious way his fingers clenched, as if gripping the handle of a blaster. 

“I’m sorry,” you said hurriedly, getting to your feet, and moving aside to allow him to trade seats with you. “I should have asked—”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” he told you gently before noticing your look of apprehension and giving a short sigh, sounding frustrated with himself. “If my back is to the wall, I don’t have to watch it. And this way, I can see everyone that comes in,” he explained, and you felt your stomach twist guiltily as you were once again reminded of the differences between your reality and his.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again, and he seemed to realize that you weren’t apologizing for the seating arrangements but rather the experiences that necessitated them. 

Reaching beneath the table, he sought out your hand and gave it a small, reassuring squeeze before returning his own to the countertop. 

“It’s okay,” he insisted, his expression softening, and you tried to muster a smile in return, spared from responding by the arrival of the waitress droid, who offered each of you a worn-down flimsiplast menu. 

“Welcome to Rik’s! Can I get either of you something to drink?” the WA-7 chirped, and you looked to Wolffe, who appeared somewhat overwhelmed by the beverage selection.

“The blumfruit juice is really good,” you told him, and he nodded in relief. “Two blumfruit juices, please,” you added, and the droid gave a quick nod before zooming off toward the kitchen. 

Turning back to Wolffe, you watched for a moment as he scanned the menu, his brows drawn together in a small frown, and lightly knocked his knee with your own.

“Everything okay?” you asked quietly, and he glanced up at you, giving a single nod.

“Just trying to decide,” he replied, flipping the piece of flimsi over and slumping slightly with dismay at the new array of choices he was presented with. “I’m not used to having this many options.” 

“Well, then don’t decide. Just order whatever sounds good,” you shrugged, nodding in thanks as the droid set two glasses down on your table before wheeling away once more. 

“That’s a lot of food,” he said uncertainly, and you shot him an incredulous look.

“Wolffe, I don’t care if you order one of every dish. Just get what you want, please,” you told him, and he tensed slightly.

“I’m not letting you pay for all of this,” he replied sharply, and you scoffed. 

“Yes, you are. I invited you out to dinner, remember?” you questioned, and when that failed to put him at ease, you gave him a reassuring grin. “Besides, it’s the least I could do for being such a pain.”

He gave a small, frustrated sigh and you slipped your hand beneath the table to brush against his knee, letting it rest there for a moment.

“Let me do this,” you said softly, and he relented, giving you a pointed look.

“Fine. But you’re helping me eat all of this,” he replied, mock stern, and you nodded seriously.

“Of course. And we’re getting dessert, too,” you told him, raising your glass of blumfruit juice and taking a sip. 

“Can we try one of these Neuvian sundaes?” he asked hopefully, pointing it out on the menu before reaching down and taking your hand, his thumb tracing little patterns into your skin as he watched you. 

You smiled, feeling so full of affection for him that it pushed the air from your lungs, your breath hitching as you offered him a response. 

“Anything you want.” 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

One massive dinner and a comically large sundae later, the two of you departed the tapcaf, and Wolffe shot a regretful look at the chrono through the window before turning back to you.

“I should get back to the barracks,” he said reluctantly, shoulders slumping with weariness. “It’s late and I still have to finish some acquisition forms before turning in.”

“Acquisition forms?” you asked, mostly to distract yourself from the disappointment gnawing away at your chest at the thought of him leaving. 

“For the shinies joining us tomorrow,” he explained stiffly, and when he saw your puzzled expression, he added, “replacements for the men we lost on Soccoro.” 

“Oh,” you replied softly, feeling ashamed that you couldn’t find anything better to say, and a moment of silence passed between the two of you as you bit down anxiously on your lower lip. 

“Well, I should—” he said, gesturing vaguely at the streams of traffic droning past, and you nodded hollowly, following him to the docking station, watching as he hailed an air taxi. “This one’s for you,” he told you as it settled, the door sliding open with a loud woosh.

“What about you?” you questioned, your brow furrowing, and he gave you a small, tired smile. 

“I’ll get the next one,” he assured you, ushering you into the backseat, and you clambered in before turning back to look at him, suddenly panicked that the night was ending. 

“Wolffe, wait—” you said breathlessly, reaching for him before you realized what you were doing. 

“Where to?” the pilot cut in, barely bothering to glance back at you, and you distractedly rattled off your address, not taking your eyes off of Wolffe. 

“What is it?” he asked quietly, holding out one hand to prevent the door from sliding closed as you leaned up toward him.

“I just—I really want to kiss you goodnight,” you whispered thickly, swallowing hard as he hesitated, sweeping a glance up and down the street before ducking his head into the taxi and pressing his lips to yours.

You rose up onto your knees to return the kiss, cupping his face in your hands, and felt him shiver as your thumb brushed over the scar on his cheek. When you broke apart, his eyes fluttered open slowly, and even the milky silver cybernetic seemed to soften as he looked at you. 

“Goodnight,” you said quietly, and he smiled at you before slowly pulling his hand away from the door, allowing it to slide closed, murmuring a response as it did so.

“Goodnight.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Kade was positively euphoric the following morning, greeting you with a thermos of caf and a smile so wide you were certain it could be seen from orbit. 

“I missed you at 79’s last night,” you said, taking the thermos and watching him over the rim of it as he gave you a sheepish look.

“Sorry. We stuck around for a bit but—” he broke off with a shrug, and you took a sip of your drink, waiting for him to continue.

When he didn’t, you raised an eyebrow.

“Did the two of you have a fun night?” you asked innocently, and he nodded, unable to stop another grin from bursting forth.

“I’ll spare you the details,” he began, and you sent a thankful look toward the skies before he continued, “but suffice it to say I’m now  _ very  _ familiar with Sinker’s new tattoo, if you catch my drift.” 

“I’d have to be worse than Bylluran’s goalkeeper to not catch that,” you said drily, taking another sip of caf, and Kade laughed.

“What about you? Did you have a nice night with Wolffe?” he replied, a conspiratorial note in his voice, and you nodded distractedly, scanning the soldiers assembled on the tarmac for the man in question. “He’s speaking with the shinies over there,” he added helpfully, pointing toward an unmarked LAAT/i, and you followed his gaze to where Wolffe was addressing a small crowd of troopers all clad in bright white armor. 

You hid your smile behind the lip of the thermos, a warmth spreading through your chest that had nothing to do with the caf.

“Come on,” you told Kade, nodding toward the entry ramp closest to you. “We have a holocall with Savah that we need to get set up for.” 

“You’d rather do that than make eyes at Wolffe?” he asked skeptically, trotting along after you, and you sent a glare over your shoulder in response as you ascended the ramp. 

Unfortunately, it quickly morphed into a lopsided grin as Wolffe glanced up in your direction, and Kade gave you a very smug look.

“Shut up,” you muttered, turning back toward the ship and hoisting your bag over your shoulder. 

“I didn’t say anything,” Kade answered serenely, pausing for a moment before adding, “but if you think I’m not going to ask about what happened last night the very second we’re off this call, you’re even more of an idiot than I thought.” 

“Charming,” you snorted, nodding in greeting to the troopers you passed as you strode through the hangar. “Sinker really didn’t stand a chance, did he?” 

“No,” he replied breezily. “He didn’t.” 

You wished Wolffe had been there to exchange a long-suffering eyeroll with you, but since he wasn’t, you made do with a dramatic sigh and made your way to the barracks with Kade humming cheerfully beside you. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The barracks were mostly empty apart from a handful of troopers filtering in and out to deposit and retrieve items between the shift change, and you and Kade settled back in easily, quickly getting the holotransceiver up and running even before the sublight engines rumbled to life. As the holoprojector beeped at you insistently, you pushed the air from your lungs, forcing your expression into something neutral if not entirely pleasant, and switched the device on. Savah materialized, her pinched visage absent of scanlines due to your proximity to her location, and you gave her a short nod.

“I’ve reviewed your interview with Commander Wolffe,” she said without preamble, her voice as clipped and impersonal as ever. “He seemed much more personable than the last time you spoke. Whatever it is you said to him to get him to cooperate, well done.” 

You bristled immediately, and Kade placed a warning hand on your forearm as you attempted a tight-lipped smile, trying to look pleased with her meager praise. 

“Yes, well, as I said, he just needed some time to warm up to us,” you replied stiffly, and her eyes narrowed slightly. 

“Now that he has, I expect your assignments to be completed in a more timely fashion from now on,” she told you, and you bit the inside of your cheek as she continued. “Unfortunately, due to how late you completed this one, a majority of the footage is unusable.”

“What? Why?” you burst out, and Kade looped his fingers around your wrist, squeezing gently to steady you. “What do you mean it’s unusable?” you asked, forcing your voice to stay level.

“The Battle of Abregado is no longer relevant,” she replied impassively, as if she was discussing the latest scandal to befall the star of some trashy Holodrama, “and given that’s what your interview centered around, I’m afraid it’s going straight to the archives unless we can find a suitable use for it.”

“That’s what you  _ told  _ me to ask him about!” you exclaimed accusatorily, and one of her eyebrows lifted slightly in response. 

“If you had bothered to send me your revised questions before conducting the interview, you would have known that I wanted you to speak with him about the Battle of Khorm,” she said icily, and you opened your mouth to reply before Kade interjected. 

“That information hasn’t been declassified yet, so it wouldn’t have been usable anyway,” he told her, and though you weren’t sure whether it was a bluff or not, she seemed temporarily mollified. 

“It’s just as well none of what you did ask him about is usable either. That scar of his looks positively dreadful,” she remarked, sounding disgusted, and you clenched the holoprojector so tightly that your knuckles went white, your jaw clenching so hard that it ached. “Though I suppose it does help to set him apart from the rest,” she added lightly, as though amused by herself, and you felt hot, angry tears spring to your eyes as you fought back a torrent of insults. 

Kade quickly reached out and grabbed the holotransceiver from where it sat on the bed, switching it off before the string of violent curses could spring forth, and he turned back to you warily, not bothering to stop you as you suddenly hurled the device in your palm against the wall, shattering it on impact. 

“Hey,” he said softly, reaching for you slowly and resting his hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay—”

“No, it isn’t!” you shouted, drawing curious looks from the few troopers in the barracks, and you took a shaky breath, dropping your voice lower. “It’s not okay, Kade! She made me ask him about all those terrible things that happened, made him  _ relive  _ all of that, and for what? For that footage to go collect dust in the archives because everyone else has moved on already!” 

Kade was silent, and you let out a heaving sob, sinking down onto his bunk and burying your face in your hands. 

“Why are we even here?” you whispered hoarsely, and you felt the thin mattress depress as he sat down beside you, knocking his shoulder against yours. “I thought we could make a difference, make them  _ care,  _ but I don’t think that will ever happen. They’re never going to because they don’t have to.”

“You were with Wolffe when the meeting happened, but Savah told us that the purchases of war bonds have increased by almost thirty percent since they’ve begun showing these pieces on HNE,” he told you after a moment. “I like to think we’re partially responsible for that.”

“So what?” you replied bitterly, yanking your head up to look at him. “All that does is line the pockets of the Republic, it’s not like it’s going to help any of the men aboard this ship—”

“Yes, it will. It can buy better armor, better equipment, things that will keep them  _ safe _ ,” Kade said firmly, though it sounded like he was trying to convince himself just as much as you. “And whatever it doesn’t buy them—decent food, better pillows, all those other things—we can try to get those for them. We can help them. But we can’t do any of that if we get fired for mouthing off to Savah, okay?” 

You gave a noncommittal grunt in response, pressing your face back into your knees, and he sighed.

“I’m going send her a message explaining our connection cut out,” he told you quietly, and you made another noise of assent, muffled into your trousers. “There’s a message from your dad on the datapad,” he added after a moment, and you stiffened. 

“Delete it. I don’t want to hear anything he has to say,” you snapped, turning to look at Kade, and he hesitated, his finger hovering over the screen.

“It looks like an apology to me,” he replied carefully, and you glowered. 

“I said, delete it.” You gritted out, and Kade relented, jabbing at the datapad to rid it of the unwanted message and then setting to composing one to Savah as you climbed up onto your bunk, your insides roiling with anger. 

After a moment, Kade cleared his throat exaggeratedly.

“So I guess now wouldn’t be the best time to ask what happened with you and Wolffe last night?” he said tentatively, and you pinched the bridge of your nose between your thumb and forefinger, scrunching your eyes shut. 

“No, actually, it might distract me from calling Savah and telling her that I think she’s a karking scumbag—” you responded hotly, and he hurriedly clambered up to join you, giving you a small grin.

“Well, you can’t very well do that anyway since you broke the holoprojector,” he pointed out, and you glared at him before scooting up against the wall and taking a deep breath before beginning. 

“Okay, so here’s what happened…”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You held off on seeking Wolffe out until after the final shift change for the evening, figuring he was probably busy getting the new troopers sorted out and assigned to their respective companies, but when your restlessness grew too much to bear, you excused yourself from the game of Sabacc you’d been half-heartedly participating in, and surreptitiously retrieved the bag of blumfruit candies from your pack before departing the barracks. After a few wrong turns, you found your way to the wardroom and from there to his office, clutching the bag tightly in one hand as you raised the other to knock. The door slid open before you could do so, and Wolffe stopped just short of barreling into you, looking up from his datapad in surprise.

“Hi,” you said breathlessly, feeling unaccountably nervous. “Sorry to turn up unexpectedly, I wasn’t sure if you’d still be here but I didn’t really have a way to comm you to ask—”

“That’s alright,” he cut in, looking amused. “I’m just about finished up here for the evening though. Is everything—are you okay?” he continued, his brow furrowing slightly, and you nodded quickly. 

“I’m fine. I got these for you but I forgot to give them to you yesterday,” you told him, thrusting the bag at him rather more forcefully than you intended, and he accepted it with a bemused look. 

“Thank you,” he replied sincerely, fixing you with a steady look. “You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” you interrupted, swallowing the sudden dryness in your throat as you watched him, your gaze drifting down to his mouth before you could stop yourself. 

“Do you…do you want to maybe talk in my quarters?” he asked hesitantly, “not that we can’t talk here in the corridor,” he added hastily, “but it might be more comfortable, or we could talk in my office. If you want to talk, that is—”

He broke off, looking thoroughly flustered, and you gave him a small, reassuring smile. 

“We can talk in your quarters,” you replied, and he nodded, relief washing over his features.

He led you down an adjoining corridor, stopping outside a door at the far end, and punched a code into the keypad beside it, stepping aside to allow you to step over the threshold before the entrance slid shut behind you both. 

“So, what did you want to talk—” you started, turning to face him, but his lips were on yours before you could finish the question, one of his arms wrapping around your waist to draw you against him. 

You sighed into his mouth, your fingers delving through his close-cropped hair, tugging him down toward you as he shuffled you backward until you were pressed against the bunk set into the wall. 

“So, no talking?” you asked against his lips, nipping at the lower one as he carefully tossed the blumfruit candies onto his desk before shaking his head.

“No talking,” he echoed, his voice roughened at the edges, reaching down and lifting you up onto his bed, pushing you back slightly so that he could duck beneath the overhang and kiss you again. 

Your legs came up to encircle his waist as his lips parted for you, his tongue sliding against yours tentatively at first before his kiss became hungrier, licking into your mouth heatedly as you let out a muffled whimper. He moved lower, burying his face in the crook of your neck, mimicking the way you had kissed him the night before and drawing out a quiet moan from you as he sucked at your pulse point, his teeth digging into your skin momentarily before his tongue dragged across that same patch of skin. One of his hands dipped beneath the hem of your shirt, his calloused palm skimming over your abdomen, and you made to sit up, needing to do away with every layer that separated him from you. 

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice hoarse from kissing, brow furrowed with concern, and you nodded, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. 

“Just want to take this off—” you replied breathlessly, tugging the shirt up and over your head and flinging it down to the floor. 

He pulled back to watch as you did the same with your underlayers, his chest rising and falling rapidly beneath his grey uniform. 

“You’re—you’re beautiful,” he whispered, and despite the unpracticed way he said it, it was so sincere that your breath hitched in response.

“Can I see you?” you asked quietly, and he nodded, unbuckling the belt at his waist and setting it down on his desk, doing the same with his grey uniform before finally peeling off the skintight black top beneath it. 

His body tensed beneath your gaze, and he watched you take in the musculature of his scar-littered torso with an almost apprehensive expression.

“You’re gorgeous,” you breathed out, and he relaxed slightly, bringing his lips back to yours to spare himself from having to respond.

Your hands roamed over his stomach and chest, mapping his almost feverish skin with your palms as he bent down to press open-mouthed kisses from your neck to your collarbone. As he licked into the hollow at the base of your throat, his fingertips hooked your waistband, stilling to await your permission before you nodded and he tugged your pants down to your knees. Your fingers carded through the short hair at his nape, bringing his face back to yours, and you kissed him messily, the low groan he let out in response reverberating in your mouth. 

His hands skimmed over the expanse of skin above your knees, brushing up your inner thighs before stopping just shy of your underwear, breaking the kiss to look down at you with swollen lips and a heated gaze. You drew your legs up on either side of his waist, letting them fall open as you craned your neck up to kiss him again, whimpering into his mouth as his thumb swept over the thin material that lay between his hands and your slick, aching heat. He repeated the action, pressing against your clit with the pad of his thumb and rubbing slow, tortuous circles against it through the cloth.

“Wolffe—” you whined against his lips, bucking your hips up into his hand as he stilled. 

“Shh, lovely, I’m right here,” he murmured, resuming his ministrations and pressing a gentle, fleeting kiss to your lips. “Tell me what you need.”

“Need you to touch me,” you whispered, the words choked as he slid your underwear to the side, his middle finger just barely pressing against your entrance. “ _ Please _ —”

“Can you be nice and quiet for me?” he asked softly, and you nodded desperately, muffling your moan into his mouth as he slid one finger inside of you, burying it to the knuckle. 

He kissed you languidly, his tongue sliding against yours as he began to move slowly, his thumb steadily circling your clit once more as you squeezed his waist between your knees. Drawing back slightly, he watched as you bit down on the inside of your cheek to hold back the noises threatening to spill forth, turning your face to the side and pressing it into his forearm to stifle the sob welling up in your throat. Raising his hand from where he braced himself against the mattress, he gently cupped your face, sliding his thumb between your lips, and you moaned around it softly, dragging your tongue over his callous-roughened skin. 

“More?” he murmured, another finger nudging at your entrance, and you nodded fervently, your eyes fluttering shut as he pushed it in, curling them both to stroke at a place deep within you that made your back arch with pleasure. 

His lips pressed against your forehead, peppering your feverish skin in kisses as his hand moved intently between your legs, bringing you closer to release with each crook of his fingers. You were trembling beneath him now, your stomach tightening in anticipation, and he slowly pulled his thumb from your parted mouth, cradling the back of your head and kissing you heatedly as his hips echoed the movements of his hand. Pulling away just enough so that he could see you, he watched you intently, feeling you begin to shake around him.

“There you go, love, just like that,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours as he coaxed you towards release. “Let me feel you come for me.”

He buried your cry in a kiss, his fingers moving steadily within you as you came apart for him until your hips jerked up in protest, slowly withdrawing his hand from between your thighs and letting it rest atop your stomach. When your tremors subsided, he drew back slightly, kissing your forehead before bringing his mouth back to yours for a gentle kiss. You reached one hand up to cup his face, your thumb brushing over his stubbled cheek, and let out a shaky breath as he pulled back to look at you. 

“Wow,” you breathed out after a moment, tracing the curve of his lips as they quirked up on one side. “That was—”

“ _ Nice _ ?” he supplied, raising his eyebrows, and you groaned, slapping your free hand over your face.

“Much better than nice,” you replied, noting his pleased expression as you looked up at him through your fingers. “But I can’t come up with anything else the moment so you’re going to take my word for it,” you added, and he leaned down to take your wrist, gently moving your hand aside so that he could kiss you.

“Better than you dreamed?” he questioned quietly when he drew away, and you nodded, biting down on your lower lip. 

“Better than I imagined,” you whispered, suddenly shy, and he brought his mouth back to yours, his hand splaying out over your waist as he kissed you deeply, licking into your mouth. 

You reached down for his waistband, toying with the button of his pants, but stilled as he drew away, shaking his head gently. 

“Not here,” he murmured, kissing the frown line between your eyebrows. 

“Why not?” you asked, unable to keep a slight whine out of your voice, and he let out of a soft huff of laughter, bringing his mouth to your ear. 

“Because,” he told you quietly, his breath tickling your skin, “I don’t want to have to stifle a thing the first time. I want to hear every single sound you make for me.” 

You let out a shaky breath in response, your chest flooding with heat, and he bent down to place a slow, open-mouthed kiss just below your jaw. Before you could form any sort of coherent response, his comlink began beeping insistently from where he had left it on the desk, and he reached for it instinctively, his face falling as he glanced at the code. 

“It’s General Plo,” he explained, and you nodded, pushing yourself up to a seated position as he gave you a quick, apologetic kiss. “I’m sorry, I have to go,” he continued, grabbing his undershirt and pulling it on before his uniform. 

“It’s okay,” you assured him, pulling your underwear and pants back up before standing and tugging your tunic back on. “Is everything alright?” 

He nodded distractedly, buckling his belt and tucking the comlink into his pocket. 

“He needs me on the bridge,” he replied, and you nodded again, unsure of whether you should exit at the same time as him. “I’m sorry to rush out like this. Thank you again for these, by the way,” he added, nodding at the blumfruit candies on his desk. 

“It’s okay, Wolffe, really,” you said softly, and he sent you a rueful look before reaching into the bag and offering you one of the brightly-wrapped sweets. 

“I know they’re your favorite, too,” he told you, and you accepted it with a murmur of thanks, tucking it into your pocket. 

“Actually, you’re my favorite,” you replied, reaching up to cup his face before kissing him again. “But these are a close second.”

“I’m not a type of candy,” he pointed out drily, and you gave him a shy smile, leaning up to brush your mouth against his ear.

“I bet you taste just as good though,” you told him quietly, pressing a kiss to his jaw as he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. 

Then, before he could respond, you turned and slipped out the door. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘


	10. chapter ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy october everyone! thank you so much for your patience as i worked on this chapter, i hope you all enjoy!   
> please come talk to me about wolffe on tumblr if you like, i'm @ beskars :)

sharp & glorious thorn; chapter ten

The  _ Courageous  _ hummed and rang with the sound of turbolaser fire. You retreated further into the corner of Kade’s bunk, hands pressed over your ears to muffle the explosions, feeling all at once guilty for not being able to do anything and tremendously relieved that no one expected you to. Kade squeezed in beside you, hugging his knees to his chest, occasionally darting a worried look over at you when the ship rocked with the impact of a hit from the Separatist cannons.

“I hate this,” he said in a strained voice, “just sitting here, not helping them.”

“I hate it, too,” you replied, lifting one hand away from your ear, “but there isn’t anything we can do to help them. The best thing we can do is just stay out of the way.” 

Kade looked as though he was about to respond but instead gave a short nod, tucking his head toward his knees as if to make himself as small as possible, and you gave his shoulder a consolatory squeeze before turning slightly so that he couldn’t see the way your teeth worried away at your lower lip. Though you knew he was far safer on the bridge than he would have been in one of the LAAT/i gunships headed to the embattled surface of Felucia to rescue the Republic forces trapped there, you couldn’t seem to stop yourself from wildly vacillating between assuring yourself that Wolffe was  _ fine  _ and conjuring images of turbolasers ripping through the command center, of cracked viewscreens and lifeless bodies—

_ Stop it _ , you ordered yourself, gritting your teeth against the torrent of “ _ what-ifs _ ” that threatened to spill forth, pressing your fingertips against the top of your skull hard enough that you imagined them leaving indentations there. Letting out a shaky exhalation, you closed your eyes, listening to the low thrum of the ship, the muted hammer of cannons, the sharp burst and crackle of debris exploding all around you, and tried very hard to think of something else. You thought about seeing Wolffe again, about the almost undetectable way his lips would quirk up at the sight of you, if only for the briefest of seconds, and you let it carry you through until the only sound you heard was the hyperspace engines powering on, and then nothing. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Though the mission to break through the Separatist blockade was successful, the dejected way the trooper’s shoulders slumped as they filed into the barracks made it clear that it was not a victory. Weary as they seemed, they straightened up as Sinker strode in, standing at attention until he dismissed them with a short wave, making his way to the bunk you share with Kade as the men began preparing for a shift change you knew would come all too soon for them. Reaching up and lifting his helmet off, Sinker tucked it beneath his arm, his expression somber. 

“Holding up alright?” he asked, and you nodded automatically despite the way his gaze didn’t stray from Kade.

“Are you okay? Is everyone else—” Kade started, getting to his feet and reaching for Sinker before pulling his hand back, clenching it into a fist at his side.

“I’m fine,” Sinker assured him, his face softening momentarily before his lips pursed once more. “But the Republic forces on the surface were overrun. There was nothing we could do except get as many of them out of there as we could. We’ve lost Felucia.” 

It didn’t take someone familiar with the Republic’s military strategy to know that this was a devastating loss; the sharp note of defeat in Sinker’s words made that clear. There was a prolonged moment of quiet as both you and Kade fumbled for the right thing to say, both wary of worsening the situation. The war seemed to provide inexhaustible opportunities to apologize for things that weren’t your fault, but that demanded more from you than sympathetic silence. Finally, Kade cleared his throat, looking apprehensive.

“Is there anything I— _ we _ —can do to help?” he questioned haltingly, and Sinker shook his head so quickly that you saw a flash of hurt in Kade’s eyes. 

“No,” Sinker replied grimly, seeming to catch himself and adding in a softer voice, “but thank you for asking.”

Kade nodded, but you noticed the way he carefully folded his arms across his chest, almost as though he was trying to protect himself. 

“High Command is calling all available battalions back to Coruscant to regroup. We’ll be remaining in orbit, but the General and Commander will be headed to the surface to attend a strategy conference if the two of you would like to go with them,” Sinker announced after another pause. “Not to attend the conference, I mean, but to go home for however long we’re back,” he added, and you exchanged a brief look with Kade before responding. 

“I’d like to,” you told Sinker gratefully, and he nodded before turning slightly to look at Kade, a barely concealed hopefulness in his expression that sent Kade’s arms falling back to his sides. 

“I want to stay on the ship,” Kade said quietly, and Sinker hesitated, looking as though he didn’t dare to believe it.

“It’s going to be boring,” Sinker warned him, and Kade shrugged.

“I don’t care. Maybe if you have some downtime you can show me how to use a blaster so I don’t feel so kriffing helpless all the time,” Kade replied, his attempt at levity far too strained for Sinker to even try laughing. 

“If you really want to learn, I suppose I could teach you,” he told him carefully, peering at Kade from beneath silver brows, “but are you sure? It may be a while before we’re back in the Corusca sector—”

“I’m sure,” Kade answered firmly, and Sinker relented, his mouth twitching up momentarily as he gave him a single nod. 

“It’s decided then. I have to get going, but I’ll comm you when they’re preparing to depart,” he said, and you offered him your thanks before beginning to gather your things, attempting to give the two of them some semblance of privacy in which to exchange murmured goodbyes. 

Only once Sinker turned and made his way back through the lines of bunks did you get to your feet, unable to stop yourself from grinning at the smitten look on Kade’s face. 

“What?” he asked, catching your sly expression and crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

“Nothing, just trying to decide whether or not I should make a joke about you learning how to handle his blaster,” you replied in an undertone, and he raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

“I said ‘a’ blaster, not his,” he pointed out, before adding smugly, “I think he would agree that I know how to handle his just fine already—”

“Okay, okay, forget I said anything,” you cut in, holding your hands up in a mock truce. “Kriff’s  _ sake _ —”

“You started it,” he replied serenely, his expression morphing into something dangerously conspiratorial before he went on in a stage whisper, “And besides, isn’t that what you were doing last night? Learning how to handle Wolffe’s—”

“Shut  _ up _ ,” you hissed, your face heating with embarrassment as you sent a quick glance around to ensure none of the troopers were listening in before continuing. “We were just-just talking,” you finished lamely, and Kade let out a disbelieving scoff. 

“Whatever you say,” he smirked, sinking down onto the edge of his bunk. “I suppose you’re going with him so the two of you can ‘talk’ some more?”

“I don’t think we’ll be doing much talking considering he’ll be in a conference and I’ll be at headquarters,” you responded acidly, and Kade frowned in confusion. 

“For what?” he questioned as you finished tightening the clasps on your pack. “We haven’t even been given a new assignment yet.”

“No, but I have to get us a new transceiver, and I should probably do some damage control with Savah while I’m at it,” you replied with a grimace. “Now that my dad and I aren’t speaking, I can’t count on him to bail me out if I get into actual trouble for talking back to her.”

“Are you going to try to speak to him?” Kade asked cautiously, and you stilled, your throat constricting painfully as you considered it.

“I’d rather try to make up with him than play nice with Savah,” you said after a moment, rocking back on your heels and looking up at him. “I think I stand a better chance of making him understand why I was so upset by what he said, at least. I don’t think Savah is ever going to understand, and if the work we’ve been doing here isn’t enough to show her that they’re more than just numbers, nothing I say is going to convince her.”

Kade nodded, chewing his lower lip thoughtfully, and you gave a short sigh as you got to your feet before settling next to him. 

“And,” you continued quietly, twisting your hands anxiously in your lap, “I’m worried that if I don’t mend things with my dad, he’s going to blame Wolffe for it all even though he didn’t do anything wrong. So I have to try to fix it.” 

“You will,” Kade told you with such unshakable confidence that you glanced over at him in surprise. 

“How do you know?” you asked, and he gave you a small, lopsided smile.

“Because, as much as you may enjoy pretending otherwise, I’m pretty sure you feel the same way about Wolffe that I feel about Sinker. You’d do anything for him, right?” he replied quietly, and you nodded.

“Yeah,” you agreed, your breath catching on the word. “I would.”

“Then if you say you need to fix things with your dad for Wolffe’s sake, you’ll do it,” he said, shrugging as if it was obvious, and you sent him a grateful look, surprised to find the tension in your shoulders had eased away slightly.

“Thanks,” you told him earnestly, and he shrugged again, a fiendish grin breaking across his face.

“So, since I helped you, can I please make one more blaster joke?” he questioned, and you knocked your shoulder into his with a little more force than was necessary as you growled out a single word in response.

“ _ No _ .”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Several embarrassing defeats at Sabacc later, your comlink chirped with a wordless message from Sinker, and you scrambled to your feet, grabbing your bag from beneath the bunk.

“Have fun,” Kade told you, one corner of his mouth lifting up, and you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll have plenty of that,” you muttered, slinging your pack over one shoulder.  “How could I not when I have to see my dad  _ and  _ Savah?” 

“You also get to see Wolffe,” he pointed out, and you had to bite back a smile at the mere thought of it, forcing it down with a nonchalant shrug.

“Just on the way down,” you replied easily, and Kade raised an eyebrow.

“You know that conference won’t last forever. The two of you might get a chance to 'talk' after they finish up,” he said knowingly, and you groaned.

“I’ll see you when I get back,” you told him, pointedly sidestepping his remark. “Have fun at blaster practice,” you added, turning on your heel and striding off before he could say anything in response. 

You wove through the corridors quickly, your heart hammering in your chest as you reached the main hangar, searching through the bustle of activity until your sight landed on Wolffe and General Plo standing alongside a LAAT/i. He was in his armor once more, and you were momentarily disappointed that you couldn’t see the expression beneath his helmet before it tilted to the side slightly, the same way it did when he gave you one of his half-smiles. Had the General not been looking at you as well, you would have returned it in full, but you settled for a polite nod at each of them.

“After you,” Wolffe told you, gesturing you through the doors, and you fought back the urge to raise your eyebrows at the unnecessary chivalry of it.

The entrance was more than wide enough for all three of you to board at once, but you stepped into the gunship first anyway, turning to face Wolffe as he grabbed the hook above him, one hand resting on his cocked hip. General Plo reached for the one beside him, turning slightly in your direction, and you pulled your eyes away from Wolffe to fix them determinedly on the floor, your face heating under what you could only imagine was a curious look from the Kel Dor. As the LAAT/i lifted off, you shifted your weight uncomfortably, suddenly gripped with the irrational but thoroughly alarming worry that General Plo could tell exactly what you were thinking about. You had heard somewhere that Jedi could read minds, and though you had dismissed the notion as ridiculous at the time, it felt very plausible under General Plo’s steady gaze. 

“So, you’re headed to a strategy conference,” you said, feeling absolutely ridiculous but also desperate to distract yourself from the fear that the General could see everything you were thinking about Wolffe as though they were being displayed on the chyron at the bottom of a HoloNet broadcast. “Sounds...fun?”

Wolffe snorted from beneath his helmet, and you felt yourself relax slightly.

“I would be lying if I said I was looking forward to it,” General Plo told you drily, “but I am sure there is some insight to be gained.”

“All due respect General,” Wolffe interjected, “but the only thing we’ll be gaining is a headache from listening to Gascon talk for hours on end.”

“I’m sure if we let him speak long enough, he will eventually get around to something worth listening to,” General Plo quipped, and you heard Wolffe let out a long-suffering sigh.

“I doubt it,” he grumbled, and you couldn’t help but send him a curious look. 

“Who’s Gascon?” you asked.

“He’s a battlefield strategist for the Republic,” Plo replied, at the same time as Wolffe said, “He’s a glorified map-reader.”

You watched as they exchanged a look that told you this was far from the first time both sentiments had been expressed.

“He does more than just read maps, Commander,” General Plo chided, though he sounded more amused than anything, and Wolffe sighed again. 

“Fine. He analyzes enemy terrain and charts a course to victory,” Wolffe amended before adding in an undertone, “also known as  _ reading a map _ .”

“Well, I can’t say anything,” you said with a small grin. “I’m miserable with navigation. I can’t even chart a course from my apartment to the supermarket.” 

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Wolffe told you, softening almost imperceptibly, and you shrugged.

“No, it is,” you assured him, “you should both be very glad I’m not the official map-reader for the Republic.”

“If you were, these strategy conferences would be much more entertaining,” he replied, and there was a fondness in his voice that made your eyes widen slightly before he cleared his throat and continued gruffly, “which isn’t saying very much—”

“I am inclined to agree with you, Commander,” General Plo cut in, a low hum of amusement beneath his words as he went on meaningfully, “that sounds very entertaining indeed.”

You and Wolffe fell into an embarrassed silence as the gunship sliced through the air towards the surface, settling onto a landing pad before the doors slid open to reveal a sprawling, windowless complex situated in the center of the Federal District. 

“Excuse me,” General Plo rumbled, giving you a polite nod as he disembarked and raised a hand in greeting at a Togrutan Jedi in the distance. 

Biting down on your lower lip, you looked at Wolffe, hoisting your pack higher up on your shoulders. 

“Where are you going after this?” you asked, knowing you had only moments with him before he had to follow General Plo toward the military headquarters. 

“The barracks,” he replied quietly, releasing his grip on the hook overhead and tilting his helmet to the side. “Why do you ask?”

“Do you have to go back there or can you go somewhere else?” you questioned, your skin heating as he considered you for a moment in silence. 

“I can go somewhere else, as long as I’m able to report back within twenty minutes,” he told you, and you let out a shaky, nervous breath. 

“So if I were to give you the address to my apartment,” you started, wishing you could see his expression through the helmet, “and to promise that I could get you to the barracks within twenty minutes…” you trailed off, teeth digging into your lower lip.

“I don’t know when I’ll be done here,” he said after a pause. “It might be late—”

“I really don’t care,” you whispered, and you heard him exhale quietly before he nodded and asked, 

“What’s the address?” 

  
  


∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

  
  


Though you briefly considered getting it over with, you elected to put off your visit to the office until the following day, not wanting to spend whatever time you had with Wolffe in a sour mood from dealing with Savah. Instead, you hailed an air taxi home before promptly departing once more when you realized the conservator was devoid of anything but condiments. The trip to a tapcaf and then a small market in CoCo Town took longer than you anticipated due to the congested lanes, and you were tempted to invoke your special traffic privileges before deciding against it, not wanting to use the benefits your father’s position afforded you while the two of you weren’t even speaking to one another. 

The city was wreathed in dusk by the time you made it back, and you glanced up at the sky hopefully as you climbed out of your speeder, hoping to see an air taxi break away from the lanes above and make its way toward your building. When none did, you gathered up your groceries and stowed them away before washing and changing into a fresh set of clothes, doing your best to appear as though you hadn’t agonized over the choice for a good twenty minutes. As you began debating over whether or not to switch out your top, there was a halting knock at the door, and you nearly stumbled over your own feet in your haste to answer it. It slid open to reveal a somewhat apprehensive looking Wolffe fiddling with the cuffs of his uniform, the worry easing away from his face as his eyes locked onto yours

“Hi,” you said breathlessly, stepping to the side to allow him to pass by you. “You changed,” you observed, and he nodded.

“I went back to the barracks to freshen up before coming here,” he replied, and you frowned as the door closed.

“You could have done that here, you know,” you told him, and he gave a sheepish, one-shouldered shrug.

“I didn’t want to impose—” he started, and you fixed him with a stare.

“It’s not an imposition. I invited you, remember?” you asked with fond exasperation, and he gave you an abashed look in response before you continued. “Did you eat dinner already?” 

He nodded, his face suddenly wrought with concern. 

“I hope you didn’t wait for me to eat—” he said, breaking off with a relieved expression as you shook your head. 

“No, and it’s a good thing you didn’t either,” you told him, offering him a small grin. “I’m about as good at cooking as I am reading maps.” 

“You have to stop doing that,” he said, his brows drawing together as he folded his arms across his chest. 

“Doing what?” you questioned, startled by the disapproving edge to his voice.

“Putting yourself down like that,” he replied, his jaw tightening. “Did someone tell you that you were bad at these things?” 

“No,” you replied defensively, frowning at him. “I mean, I just know that I’m not good at them, so—”

“Do I strike you as the type of person who would like someone as incompetent as you make yourself sound?” he interrupted bluntly, and you hesitated, feeling very exposed under his scrutinizing gaze.

“You  _ do  _ like me though, right?” you asked quietly, hating how self-conscious it sounded, and he nodded.

“I want you to say it,” he told you evenly, closing the interstice between your bodies. “I know how competent you are, but you don’t seem to. I want you to tell me that you are.”

You felt heat bloom in your cheeks, your throat dry as you weighed the words on your tongue, letting them tumble out.

“I’m competent,” you tried out, cringing at the ghost of a question mark that lingered there, and he shook his head gently.

“Again,” he urged you, and you took a deep breath, looking straight into his eyes as you breathed the words out, quiet but certain. 

“I’m competent.” 

“You are,” he agreed, cupping your face with one hand, one corner of his mouth quirking up as he murmured, “and yes, I like you.” 

You leaned into him, pressing your lips against his softly at first, your heart fluttering at the little sigh he let out when you deepened the kiss, threading your fingers through his hair. His other hand came to rest on your waist for a moment before skimming down your side, stilling at the hem of your tunic before tentatively dipping beneath it and wrapping around your hip. Your attempt to do the same was hindered by his belt, and he undid it with deft fingertips before unwinding it and letting it fall to the ground. Reaching underneath his uniform, you tugged his undershirt up impatiently, splaying your hand over his warm stomach, your tongue sliding against his as you walked him backward toward your room. 

“Um, so,” you said as the two of you broke apart to catch your breath, “this is my apartment—”

“It’s great,” he replied, not looking at any of it, and you drew him back in for another kiss beneath the doorway before reaching to turn on the setla lamp in the corner, bathing the room in a soft glow. 

The two of you looked at another in silence for a moment, his thumb brushing tenderly over your skin before he pulled his hand away and stripped off the top of his uniform, casting it aside before reaching for his undershirt. You took his wrists, gently moving his hands to his sides, and bent down slightly as you pushed the hem of his shirt up slightly, kissing the skin just above his waistband. He sucked in a sharp breath, his stomach going taut beneath your mouth as you continued up the planes of his body until the fabric was bunched around his chest, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his sternum before lifting the undershirt up and off of him. Tucking your head beneath his chin, you kissed your way down to the base of his throat, licking into the hollow there as your palm slid down his front, your fingertips dipping below his waistband. 

Wolffe let out a choked noise as your hand wrapped around him, his cock twitching as you eased it out of his trousers, kissing the cleft in his chest before sinking down to your knees. 

“Wait,” he forced out, one of his hands covering your as you made to tug his pants down further, “you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” you told him quietly, skimming your thumb along the underside of his cock as you looked up at him before you leaned up to press a kiss to his hip. “Please.”

A tremor ran through his body at that, and he nodded wordlessly, leaning his upper back against the wall with a low groan as you darted your tongue out to catch the pearly bead of precum at his tip. You drew him into your mouth slowly, taking him down until you felt him at the back of your throat, holding him there in the wet warmth of your mouth as he gritted out a curse. His hands had curled into fists at his sides, and as you pulled back, you took one them in your own, interlacing your fingers with his as you gripped his leg with the other. His hold on you tightened as you took him back further this time, your nose brushing against the coarse curls at the base of his cock, fingertips digging into his muscled thigh as you moaned around him. 

“Stop,” he said breathlessly, and you drew back, looking up at him in concern, and he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Feels too good,” he told you, the words almost slurred. “Don’t want this to be over yet, just-just let me—” he broke off, bringing you to your feet and kissing you heatedly, groaning as your fingers wrapped around his cock where it lay trapped between your bodies. 

“Let you what?” you whispered, pulling back to watch his dazed expression as you stroked him lazily.

“Let me make you feel good,” he replied quietly, his breath hitching as your thumb swirled over his tip before leaning in to press a kiss to the side of your neck. “I want to make you come again,” he murmured, lips brushing against your ear, and you let out a shaky exhalation, biting back the whimper at the tip of your tongue. 

Nodding, you released him, stepping back to peel off your tunic as he tugged off the rest of his clothing, running one hand down your side as you pushed your trousers down before doing away with your underclothes. Reaching between your legs, he parted you with his fingertips, one of them nudging at your entrance momentarily before sliding up to circle your clit, and you made no attempt to muffle the desperate whine welling up in your chest. 

“Wolffe—” you pleaded, and he acquiesced, one finger pushing into you as he drew one of your legs up with his free hand, wrapping it around his hip. 

You let out a gasp as he stroked at you, his thumb pressing against your clit as you clung to him, burying your moan in the juncture of his shoulder.

“Let me hear you,” he commanded quietly, and you slowly lifted your head, meeting his gaze as he worked another finger into you, curling them slightly.

“ _ Wolffe _ ,” you whimpered, your nails digging into his back as he languidly eased his fingers in and out of you, “you feel so good—”

He pressed his lips to your collarbone, kissing his way down to your stomach as he sank down onto one knee, his warm breath fluttering against your skin. One of his hands wrapped around the back of your thigh, holding you steady as he worked you open with the other, and you shifted forward, trying to find the angle that eluded you. A frustrated, desperate noise escaped your throat as you bore down on his fingers, and he looked up at you, stilling his movements. 

“Bed,” was all you managed to get out, and he blinked in surprise, seeming to have forgotten that was an option. 

“Right,” he muttered sheepishly, carefully withdrawing his fingers and getting to his feet before kissing you softly, walking you toward the bed until the backs of your legs hit the mattress.

One of his knees wedged between your thighs, spreading them open for him as he pressed you down into the bedding, parting your lips with his own. You moaned as he kissed his way over your jaw, down the side of your neck, and across your chest, his tongue sliding down your stomach until he stopped just below your navel. He knelt on the floor beside the bed, lifting both your legs up and over his shoulders, and you got to your elbows, watching as he drew in a breath, looking up at you apprehensively.

“I’ve never-I’ve never done this before,” he admitted quietly, uncertainly, and you hesitated, your mouth falling open in a silent ‘ _ Oh. _ ’

“You don’t have to—” you started, and he shook his head fervently, an almost pleading look on his face.

“I want to,” he assured you, and you relaxed slightly. “It’s just—it’s never been like this with anyone else,” he went on haltingly, and you curled forward, cupping his cheek with one hand, your thumb stroking over his scar. 

“It’s okay,” you whispered, and he let out a low exhalation, leaning into your touch. “I’ll tell you what feels good.” 

He nodded, turning his head slightly to press a kiss to your palm.

“Okay,” he breathed out, his eyes fluttering shut momentarily as your thumb brushed over his lips before you drew your hand back to the bed. “Okay.”

You settled back onto your elbows, watching as he leaned forward, his breath fanning over you before he slowly parted you with his tongue, dragging it through your folds before his lips closed over your clit. Your hips lifted in response, and he tightened his hold on your thighs, groaning against you as reached down to bury one hand in his hair. He familiarized himself with you unhurriedly, lapping at you as your legs trembled around him, your fingertips lightly scraping over his scalp. 

“ _ Wolffe _ ,” you forced out, your voice hoarse with pleasure, and he pulled away slightly, looking up at you with an almost drowsy expression, lips wet with you. 

“Tell me what you need,” he urged you, his breath hot and unsteady against your aching center.

“Your fingers, too,” you replied, not bothering to mask the desperation in your words. “Please—”

He nodded, releasing one of your thighs and ran two of his fingers through your slick folds, gathering your arousal before pushing them into you, drawing out a moan from deep in your belly at the feeling of being so full with him. You gasped out a curse, your head lolling back as his mouth latched onto your clit, tongue circling it intently as his fingers beckoned at a place within you that left you grasping at the sheets with your free hand, whining out a desperate curse. His rhythm was disjointed at first, fervent but unpracticed, but soon his mouth and hand began to work in tandem, bringing you closer and closer to release with each movement. 

“Wolffe,” you moaned out, your hips shifting, body overwhelmed with pleasure, “you’re gonna make me come—”

He groaned into you at that, sucking at your clit as his fingers curled inside of you, stroking at you even as you began to shake around him, your heel digging into his back as you brought him flush against you. There was an urgency to his ministrations now, and you used the last bit of strength you had to lift your head up and look down the planes of your body, a choked moan scraping itself from your throat at the sight of him between your thighs, his eyes closed in contentment as he laved you with his tongue. A single coherent thought formed in your brain— _ you’re the only one who has ever seen him like this, no one else, no one else in the entire galaxy _ —and then you unraveled for him. 

You fell back against the mattress, your eyes squeezing shut as he coaxed you through it, carefully easing off your overly-sensitive clit and slowing the movements of his fingers. When your tremors began to subside, he withdrew his hand from between your legs and pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh before climbing overtop of you and brushing his lips against your forehead. Forcing your eyes back open, you took in his almost worried expression, reaching up and stroking the side of his face.

“Okay?” he asked quietly, and you let out a short, overwhelmed huff of laughter, nodding.

“Yeah, it was okay,” you told him, your voice barely a rasp, and he fixed you with a look.

“I meant, are  _ you  _ okay?” he amended, and you nodded again, sobering. 

“Yes,” you whispered, tilting your head up to kiss him. “Very.” 

“Good,” he murmured against your lips, grabbing one of your legs and hitching it up over his hip as he rocked against you, his cock twitching where it lay between your bodies. 

You shook your head and he stilled, your breath tickling against his ear as you leaned into him. 

“On your back,” you instructed him, trying to imbue the words with as much surety as you could, hesitating for a moment before adding, “ _ Commander _ .”

He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth at that, his fingertips digging into your thigh with an edge of desperation that made you ache for him before he nodded slowly. Letting out a ragged exhalation, he released you and reoriented himself so that his back was pushed up against the pillows. You got to your feet unsteadily before climbing onto the bed, crawling over him until you were straddling him, the tip of his cock brushing through your folds as you rolled your hips. Bending forward, you kissed him heatedly, wrapping your fingers around the base of him to align him with your entrance before you pulled away and sank down onto him. 

The feeling of fullness pushed the air from your lungs, and you braced yourself on his shoulders as you shifted on his lap, allowing yourself to grow accustomed to the stretch before lifting your hips up slightly. He watched you with parted lips, his chest rising and falling rapidly as you locked eyes with him, languidly undulating your hips. 

“Do you like when I call you that?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, and he nodded, his jaw tightening as you ground down against him. 

“Yes,” he replied hoarsely, sending a thrill of pleasure racing up your spine as you reached up to run your thumb along his stubbled cheek. 

“You feel so good, Commander,” you told him quietly, and he let out a soft curse, his hips jerking up to meet yours in response. 

His hands skimmed down your sides, coming to rest on your hips, rocking you back and forth in his lap as he covered your neck in kisses, his teeth grazing the flesh just below your ear when you cried out for him. You could feel him trembling with the effort of pulling himself back from the edge, his hips jutting up erratically as he pressed his face into the juncture of your shoulder. Grabbing his wrists, you silently urged him to take the lead, gasping out a curse when he began to thrust up into you almost desperately, moaning against your skin as you clenched around him. 

“Come for me,” you whispered, and he stilled momentarily, pulling back to search your face. “ _ Please _ , Wolffe—” you urged, and he nodded, looping one arm around your waist to bring you as close to him as possible as his hips drove up into yours. 

He let out a muffled curse as he came, his fingers scrabbling against you as if to tether himself somehow, and you sighed shakily as he stilled within you before flopping backwards onto the pillows. 

“Okay?” you asked slyly after a moment, watching a grin break across his face before his eyes fluttered back open to meet yours. 

“Very,” he replied, and you grinned back before leaning down to press a quick kiss to his lips, his grip on you tightening as you made to climb off of him. 

You looked down at him in surprise, and he shifted beneath you, curling up to kiss you slowly before murmuring, 

“But we’re not done yet.” 

  
  
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘   
  



End file.
